Guilt
by Just Another Angel
Summary: A girl hiding from her past. A guy haunted by dreams of a dead friend. Spike in a gay bar. What more do you need? Please R&R This story is complete so if you want more, contact me!
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:**  I do not own, lease, or have time-share in any of the characters from AtS or BtVS.  I have borrowed them for the time being, I promise no harm will come to them (Hopefully).

Second fic and second chance to put right what I screwed up in Angel's Gift (first fic)  

I have tried to make this as new as possible but there will be some references made to events which took place in Angel's Gift, sorry it I loose any of you. 

Honest opinions always appreciated.  That is my way of asking you to read and review.  

Just Another Angel

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Rathlyn peered down upon the small man, watching as he twitched and trembled, his bony fingers plucking nervously at the sleeves of his black robe.  

He had grown accustomed to this reaction from his subordinates, particularly the more academic portion.  Standing seven feet tall, with shoulders as wide as a small car there were very few things that stood up to him.  

His oily grey/black skin was deeply seemed and scarred from his many battles and his scars stood as warning to others.  He wore them proudly, they were his badge of office stating he had proved himself on the battleground as the strongest of his corps and therefore rightful leader of the Myoran Armed Defences.

"Are you sure it is the right one?"  He growled, it wasn't an intentional sound, all warrior Myoran's had gravely voices due to the high levels of acid they drank.  

 "Your greatness, it is _a_ key but there is still some doubt as to its purpose.  That is to say, we are unsure if it is _our_ key."  Came the snivelling reply from the short and abnormally spindly man.  Rathlyn was sure his naturally pasty grey skin had taken on an even paler cast.  True he was also Myoran but he was of the pedagogic creed, a subterranean sect, unlike Rathlyn himself who belonged to the warrior creed.  

"And how do you mean to resolve this doubt?"  He waited impatiently for the mans answer, beating his three thick, taloned fingers on the table top with slow deliberation, like the drums at a hanging.

"There are several reasons for our reluctance to approach her, Sir."

"I didn't ask for excuses, Snort."  Now his tone was becoming harsh, Rathlyn was not well known for his patience, which was wearing thinner by the second.

"I understand, Supreme Rathlyn, but we can not move forward until we are sure there is no threat to us, or to the key itself."

"Snort, you are a snivelling coward.  I want to be advised at all times of the activities of the key, that is if you can manage to determine if it is _our_ key."  He demanded, sighing and folding his scarred face into an even deeper scowl.

"Of course, Supreme Rathlyn."  Snort backed away from him, nervously and scampered back to his cubicle to regain his wits and advise his associates of their new orders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

The weekly meeting with the department heads was coming to a close.  Harmony could hear them all muttering and rustling papers.  She was glad to be excused from the proceedings, mostly due to her awful shorthand.  Angel had decided it would be more practical to record the meetings, so Fred and her chums had rigged a part mystical, part technical doohicky in the room that took all the hard work out of it.

She was about to return to her office when the door opened, and people started filing out, none of them looked very happy, but that wasn't exactly unusual.  She just caught a snip of conversation and she snuck over to listen more closely, attempting to make herself look busy by fiddling with a pot plant beside the door.

"I just said I thought some security procedures could do with tightening up."  Cordelia huffed and glared at Angel across the huge mahogany table.  "I had hoped you, of all people, would back me up."  

After her recovery from the coma, such as it was, Cordelia had spent several months finding her place in the great scheme of Wolfram & Hart.  She remembered nothing of her return from the higher plain, though she remembered how bored she had been there.  

She had finally decided she wanted to be responsible for internal security, in light of all the problems they had had with uninvited guests and gift's.  She figured there was nothing more important than the safety of her friends, and with her protective and somewhat suspicious nature, security suited her best.  It also meant she could go anywhere in the building she wanted to without question, which was quite a feat in Wolfram and Hart. 

"Don't you think a retinal scanner in the staff parking lot's just a bit like overkill, Cordy?"  Angel was being as diplomatic as he knew how, he had some futile hope that if he pointed out the obvious she would see sense.

"If I had thought that I wouldn't have suggested it, and since you gave me control of security, it's my opinion that counts."  She picked up her notes and stomped toward the door.

"You haven't made provision for additional scanners in your accounts."  Angel smirked, stopping her in her tracks.

"If you think for one .."  She stopped talking instantly when she read his look.  "Pig."

"Are you working late tonight?"  He enquired, hopefully.

"Em, no, I'm, er." Angel's abrupt change in topic caught her off guard, she couldn't decide whether this was the time for brutal honesty or an enormous lie.  She bit her lip and tried to weigh her options without giving herself away.  

Things had been different between them since she came out of the coma.  She loved him, nothing on any plain of existence could change that, but there seemed to be an invisible barrier between them.  They didn't talk about it, it was just there and neither of them seemed in any hurry to find a way around it.

"You've made plans, that's okay.  I just thought, never mind."  Angel doodled on his pad in an effort to avoid looking at her.

"I can change them, the plans I mean.  If it was something, you know, important."  She didn't want to change her plans, was in fact really looking forward to her plans, but if Angel needed her she would stay.

"No, not important.  I'll talk to you later."  He was gutted, but he didn't want her to know it.  Cordelia was moving on, it was the right thing for both of them and he knew it.  

"Why am I plagued by impossible relationships?"  He wondered.  His feelings for her were still as strong as ever, they just weren't, the same.  It didn't make much sense but he couldn't seem to get beyond the thought of Connor and Cordy together.  The fact that no one else, including Cordelia herself, remembered Connor didn't seem to help. Every time he thought of Cordy, he saw Connor with his arm around her and a protective hand on her pregnant belly.  Was there such a commandment as thou shalt not covet thy mystically erased son's ex lover and Mother of your maniacal, mind controlling Granddaughter?  

"Everything okay, boss?"  Harmony broke into his thoughts, heedless to their life altering importance.

"Hmm?  Yeah, fine."  He stood up, his pad slipping to the floor.  Harmony bent to pick it up and noticed the sketch on it, a sketch of Cordelia.

"Fine, really?"  She returned the pad to him with a raised eyebrow and half smile.

"It's none of your business."  He scowled snatching back the pad and trying valiantly to retain his cool demeanour.  "And if I hear any office gossip about Cordelia and me, I'll know exactly who to fire."

"Hey, that's not fair, anyway there's enough gossip about Cordy already.  Oops."  She put her hand to her mouth in mock embarrassment and scurried to keep up with him as they returned to his office.

"Like what?"  The question was loaded, and he hated himself for even asking but he couldn't help it.

"Well,"  Harmony's voice took on a conspiratorial tone.  "The rumour mill is working overtime because Cordelia's been seeing one of the lawyers, someone in Interdimensional Property.  At least that's what Bethany told me, and she should know."

"Who?  For how long?"  Angel couldn't believe it.  "How come no one tells me this stuff?"

"Question one, Blake Anderson.  Question two, more than a month, if you believe Bethany, which I do.  Question three, because you get mad, then you get moody."  She was gratefully beyond his reach by the time she finished her third statement.

"I don't get moody, I'm always moody."  He chundered to himself as he closed his office door, shutting out the world beyond.  "What kind of name is, Blake?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It doesn't matter how long you stare at it, she still won't come to life?"  Lorne informed Spike.

"Tried it, huh?"  His sparkling blue eyes rose to meet the demons blood red orbs as he replaced the photograph on the corner of his desk with the others.

"Yep.  Usually I'm on my fourth or fifth drink, a couple after that I can make her dance the Macarena if I really want to."  Lorne smiled ruefully, he and Spike had shared several conversations about Ariane over the past months.  Spike figured they must have considered every "what if" possible and even a few that were impossible.

"Good evening, Sir.  Will it be the usual?"  Spike imitated a posh bartender as he pulled open his filing cabinet drawer and produced another shot glass to join the one already filled to the brim on his desk.

"Why not."  Lorne shrugged, it was ten thirty and he had been working since six that morning.  If anyone had earned a drink he had and Spike looked like he could use some company.

"You had a shite day too?"  Spike put the glass down and returned to his chair staggering slightly.

"Contract negotiations for Mariah, the woman has demands you wouldn't believe."  Lorne rolled his eyes and sighed.

"_The_ Mariah?"  Spike looked stunned.

"All those octaves and you thought it was natural?  The woman has demon diva written all over her.  Enough about me, I'm about all talked out for one day, what's up with you, sugar?"  He asked, knowing that if Spike didn't want to talk, he wouldn't, asking the question was more habit than curiosity.

Spike threw back his drink in one swift swallow, hissing as the vodka burned its way to his stomach.  "I'm pissed off."  He replied then sat back to ponder his answer, then nodded.  It was good enough, it said everything it had to.  

He couldn't think of a specific reason for his pissedoffness, nothing had happened, no one had said anything or did anything unexpected.  Yeah, pissed off summed it up nicely.

"How did your meeting with Angel go this morning?"  Lorne glanced at the shot of vodka Spike had poured him but didn't pick it up.

"No, Spike, you can't have a raise.  No, Spike, you can't have a car.  No, Spike, you can't have a pee, you should have gone before class.  Does than give you a hint or do you want me to go on?"  His speech was slurred, but not enough to hide the bitterness in his voice.

"That good?  You can't really grumble, he gave you a job and this office."  Lorne commented looking around the room and giving the drunken vampire a weak smile.

"A job?  Do you think I really want to work for that ponce, it's like working for your Father.  It feels like bloody charity, like I'm not capable of doing anything else.  As for this ruddy office, yeah big deal, he gave me an office, after he cleared out the janitor's stores.  The place still smells like flippin pine scented floor cleaner.  Anyway, I had to pester him for months before I got this."  Spike threw his arm around at the bare walls and dull furniture, spilling some of the dregs from his glass in the process.  

"He's such a pompous git sometimes.  Up there in his tower, with his secretary and his bloody panoramic view of the city, everything anyone could ask for.  What do I get, a broom cupboard with no windows, a filing cabinet and a phone, and it's like he wants me fall all over him with gratitude or something.  Fall all over his face with my bloody fist is what I should do."  He snatched Lorne's untouched glass and tossed back another shot then almost missed the table trying to put the glass down.

"Go home is what you should do."  Lorne hated it when Spike was in this mood.  He was no good to anyone, least of all himself.  The only person who seemed capable of pulling him out of it was Fred and she had gone home already.  He hauled Spike out of the chair and drag/walked him toward the door.  It made a change for him to be pouring someone else into a cab these days; it took him back to his carefree Caritas days.

"She wouldn't have let me get like this, would she?"  Lorne knew exactly which "she" Spike was referring to.  He always talked about her when he was drunk.

"Spike, I don't think even she could stop you when you get started."

"Nah, she would have done that thing she did, and make everything sunny, and nice, and, and she wouldn't blame me, would she mate?"  Spike turned his somehow young but ancient eyes to him, filled with cautious hope.

"No, Spike, I don't think she would blame you one bit."  There it was, Spike had finally admitted what was wrong.  Deep down Spike had joined more than just the Wolfram & Hart team, he had joined Angel in the guilt ridden gang too.

"I didn't know killing that damned prissy playboy lawyer would blow up the cars, did I.  I didn't mean  to kill him, just rough him up a bit and let old McDonald do the rest.  How was I supposed to know he'd go and have a flippin' heart attack.  Anyway, Angel should have found her before then."

"Angel did all he could, we all did.  Spike, don't do this to yourself."  Lorne tried to placate the vampire long enough to get him to the lobby.

"Bugger Angel, he didn't care about her, we cared, didn't we, Lorne, mate."  Spike threw his arm around Lorne in a drunken hug.

"Yeah, sweetness, we cared, we cared a lot."

"She kissed me once, did I tell you that?"

"Yes, Spike, you told me."

"She looked like Dawn too, just a little, maybe it was just the hair, but she reminded me of the bit.  Why does everything have to come with a ruddy price tag, demon?  Why couldn't she just be a normal kid, with a normal life?  Why'd someone have to mess around with her and give her to that ponce in the first place?"

"Spike, stop torturing yourself like this, let Ari go.  She's not Dawn.  Dawn's fine, livin it up with big Sis in Europe."

"At least I did something right then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The girl wandered into his midnight dark room, crossing to the bed where he lay with a thin sheet covering only half of his body.  He was sleeping, one arm draped over his torso, the other thrown out to his side.  The sweetest smile stretched her pretty pink lips, crinkling the corners of her playful eyes and making her look even more like a pixie.  She made no attempt to conceal her presence, but her bare feet and the hem of her exquisite gown made only the softest hiss as they brushed over the thick carpeting.  

She bent over him, flicking her head to halt a sheaf of long raven hair before it could drift against his chest and wake him.  She looked at him with desperate longing, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch his face.  Before her fingers could caress his skin there were six thunderous shots.  Blood spread outwards, swiftly saturating the fabric of her dress, turning it's virgin white to scarlet.   He remained motionless, apparently oblivious to her condition, while her look of pure despair deepened.  

He woke with a start, the memory of the shots still ringing in his ears, cold sweat covering his shivering body.  He sat up and ran a hand through his tousled hair, drawing in a cleansing breath and expelling it with a sigh.  It had been eight months since it'd happened and almost as long since he'd had that dream, then from nowhere he has it twice within a week.  Why the hell was he thinking like this, what was it about her he couldn't let go?

Angel lay back down and rolled onto his side to checked the clock beside his bed just as a fork of lightening blazed across the stormy night sky, it was 2.36 a.m.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He leaned against the doorframe with one hand in his pants pocket, studying her with guarded scrutiny.  His deep, warm, engaging, brown eyes running over her face, eventually fixing on her distinctive cobalt orbs.  He broke into a lop sided smile and shoulder pushed himself from the doorway without taking his hand from his pocket.  He walked with his usual graceful gait across the room toward her.  She drank in every inch of him, her eyes running upward from his slim hips, broadening across his toned chest to his strong, muscular, shoulders, rippling under his dark grey sweater.

He approached her and stretched out a hand to return a stray strand of hair, which had drifted across her forehead and tucked it behind her ear.  His gifted fingers lingered and traced a line down the curve of her neck.  She closed her eyes and drifted on the tingling warmth his touch had generated.  She felt her body jolt violently, four, five, six shots.  When she opened her eyes again he was gone, fine, shimmering motes of dust dancing in an eddying air current the only sign of his former presence.

She awoke in her dark room listening to the rain as the storm's rage broke with all its intense beauty.  Thunder crashed and she shuddered involuntarily.  The dream had woken her again, the same one which had woken her the night before last.  It wasn't new; she had been having it periodically for months.  She just couldn't understand why her thoughts would not let him rest.  A single tear spilled from the corner of her eye, running across her cheek to drop onto the pillow.

Ariane turned her head to look at the clock on her wall, a flash of lightening giving her just enough light to read that it was 2.36 a.m.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lorne looked the young redheaded interviewee over from top to toe.  "I'm guessing Eminem, Stan."  He thought to himself and took another sip of his drink.  Things were bad; he had hit the bourbon already.  Well the sun was over the yardarm on one continent or another what difference would it make.

"You don't have to give yourself a stroke, just sing."  He had been waiting two minutes and it was two minutes too long.

"Em, well, this is my Mom's favourite."  The kid gave the demon a half-hearted smile; this was the weirdest interview he'd ever had.

"Thanks for the introduction, can we see the main attraction now?"  Lorne asked.

"Fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars.  Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars."  The scarecrow crooned.  

Lorne was taken aback, both by the song and the voice.  "He may look like Shaggy from Scooby Doo, but he sings like Sinatra."  He thought, astonished.  Lorne was almost finished the reading when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised.  He snatched something from his desk drawer and looked at it as if for confirmation.

"Something wrong?"  The kid asked looking worried, he needed this job and it was going to be tough to explain he didn't get it because his singing wasn't up to scratch.

"Wrong, no.  Do you know her?"  Lorne showed the boy the photograph he held and waited anxiously for his reply.

"That's her."  Ricky's hand stretched out to touch the print, like someone in a dream.

"Her, who?"  Lorne asked, his impatience growing.

"Ariane."  He spoke her name with a sigh.  "She saved my life."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She dragged herself out of bed at six o'clock.  There was no point in lying there any longer, staring at the ceiling and watching the sunlight change the shadows from black to grey.  Anyway she'd heard Rob moving around and she had promised to let him practice on her.

Six foot two, short dark hair, hazel eyes and with boyish good looks he was a sight most women would love to see in their bedroom in the morning.  He burst in with far more energy than anyone should have a right to at that hour.  "Good morning, Anne, all ready for me?"  He grinned.

"That depends, what are we working on today?"  She faked a worried expression as he rubbed his hands together like a theatrical villain and she followed him into the lounge.  Rob was a qualified fitness instructor who seemed to take great delight in his sometimes masochistic occupation.  Anne didn't complain, Rob had helped claw back her freedom.

 "Stamina workout and then a massage if you're lucky."  He informed her as he poured them both a coffee in the kitchen.

"Sounds painful, I mean delightful."  She took the proffered mug and blew on the steaming liquid before taking a sip.  "Why are you so cheerful this morning?"

"No reason."  He lied.

"Hmm, did you see Jeff last night?"  The question was voiced as innocently as she could manage but it still sounded too obvious.

"Yes, I did."  He was busy setting up his equipment and didn't give her eye contact, but he knew exactly what she was fishing for.

"And?"  She wasn't giving up until he gave her all the details.

"And, he asked me out just like you said he would.  I thought he wasn't going to, then just before he left he stopped me by the door and asked if I was busy on Friday night."  Rob was beaming and she couldn't have been happier for him.

"So you said, of course I'm not doing anything, where would you like to go, to which he replied?"  She prompted.

"We're going to that new bar in town, what's it called again."  He paused to think, the name dancing just beyond his recollection.

"Flamers."  She answered for him, never having heard of it before.  She had tried to curb her gift's but sometimes they seemed to have a mind of their own

"That's it."  He clicked his fingers and gave her a sly, sideways glance.  "You read my mind."

"If I could do that, do you think I would be here?  I'd be rich, famous and living it up on my millions."  She covered her lie with sarcasm, and mentally thanked Spike for this acquired talent.

"Fat chance, I've yet to see you leave this place without being forced."

"What do I have to go out for, I get all the entertainment I need right here listening to you talk about your love life."

"You need to get one of your own and stop pretending you enjoy being single.  If there is one thing I know, it's that lots of people are alone, but very few of them actually like it."  He was half-kidding, half-serious and she knew it.

"Yes, Mother."  She shook her head and gave him a look that dripped with "Don't lecture me's".

"Stop stalling, we have work to do."  He met her gaze with a no nonsense one of his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That afternoon she sat in front of the computer terminal and went through the same ritual she had for almost two months.

"Just look them up.  www.Wolfram&Hart.c"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it could be dangerous."

"That's just an excuse, you're hiding behind your guilt."

"That's right, I am."

"What's the worst that could happen?"  And that's where the trouble started, with the 'what if's'.

"Angel is dead, what could be worse than that?  What if they're all dead; what if Savage is there; what if he traces me here; what if ………" The possibilities were endless.

"Are you busy?"  Sylvia's soft English accent saved her from another ten minutes of internal quarrelling.

"Never too busy for you."  She smiled and turned herself around, looking behind the older woman. "Where is he?  I was sure I heard giggling, isn't Jamie with you?"

"Surprise."  The three-year-old jumped out from behind his mother's legs with a huge sunny infectious smile.  "I was hiding."  He stated with obvious pride, he was taking great pains to conceal a large piece of paper behind his back.

"You're just too clever, aren't you.  What's that, have you been painting today?"  

"That's why we're here, he painted it early this morning and he's been driving me mad all day to come down here to give it to you."  Sylvia planted herself in a large overstuffed floral print armchair, which stood beside the open French doors over looking the pool.  She plucked at the collar of her blouse attempting to create some air to cool herself down.

"I should speak to Paul about installing air conditioning down here.  Anne, how can you stand this heat?"  She asked, noticing the younger woman didn't seem to be suffering from the same wilting effect.  

"My personal thermostat's set a little low these days."  She commented  "Where is Paul?"

"He had a board meeting today, remember."  Sylvia reminded her.  Paul Nardino was Sylvia's husband, Rob was his son from his first marriage.  Technically he was Anne's boss and landlord.  It had been Paul who found her lying in the street after  she had been dumped out of the Mercedes.

Jamie was poking around in Anne's desk drawer, looking for something to play with when she tapped him lightly on the shoulder, "Okay, now you have to tell me what it is."  She leaned close to him and he stepped closer to her so she could lift him into her lap.

"This is you," He stated pointing to a blob of black and white paint on the left of the picture.

"Who is that?"  She asked pointing to another rough figure.

"That's Robbie, of course.  Where is he, he said he'd take me for ice cream today?"  Jamie looked at her and his little brow furrowed turning him into a caricature little old man.  He slapped his hand on Anne's forehead.

"What's that face for?"  Sylvia asked him from across the room.

"Annie looks sick today."  Jamie pointed out to his mother.  Who, on looking more closely did notice strain lines around Anne's eyes and her pale complexion.

"You don't look yourself today, are you feeling well?"

"I'm fine, I just had trouble sleeping last night."  It wasn't a lie, but it felt like it.

"It's this horrible humidity, it's just awful.  I had hoped last night's storm would have helped but it hasn't made any difference at all.  Jamie, we'll leave Anne alone to have a nap."  She put out her hand to draw her son to her.

"I haven't finished telling Annie about my picture."  He stated, shaking his head and looking at his mother with a disapproving scowl.

"How rude of me."  She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes toward Anne, knowing it was pointless to argue, he took his stubborn streak from his father.

"This is an angel, he came to visit last night while you were sleeping."  Jamie pointed to a dark grey figure close to the white one.  He slid from Anne's knees and ran over to his mother.

"So that's what kept you awake, I don't think I'd be able to sleep with an angel in my bedroom either."  Anne only caught half of Sylvia's comment and gave her a weak smile as she studied Jamie's picture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Psst."  Spike spun around then held his head, wincing.  He was standing by the vending machine sipping his fourth cup of vile instant coffee.

"Bloody hangovers."  He cursed.

"You need hair of the dog."  Lorne informed him, speaking from experience.

"I'd shave the damn mutt bald if it'd get rid of this headache."  He moaned, massaging his left temple with his index finger.  "What's with the cloak and dagger?"

"We need to talk, it's important."  Lorne whispered conspiratorially, he didn't really want to discuss this rather touchy subject where anyone could over hear.

"What have you done this time?"  Spike grumbled walking toward his office, every step seeming to jar his pounding brain.  "I'm not covering your arse anymore.  Angel still thinks it was me who set off the sprinklers in the executive bog."

"I haven't done anything, and it was both of us who set off the sprinklers, you just got caught."  Lorne closed the door behind them a little too loudly for Spikes fragile condition.

"I'll give you one more chance, Kermit, then I rip your head off and laugh, watching you fumble about trying to put it back on."  He warned the Pylean.

"Okay, Mister grouchy pants, but I think you might like this one.  I've got a lead on Ari."  He stated proudly.

"Not this again.  My head might feel like its stuffed with marshmallows, mate, but I'm not completely thick.  I'm not going on anymore wild goose chases with you, not even for Ariane."  Spike muttered taking a huge swallow of scalding hot coffee.  He had decided this morning when he woke up with yet another guilt induced hangover that he was going to forget about her.  There was no way he was going to end up like Angel, he'd rather stake himself first.

"Not even if I told you the guy who was driving the Merc to the beach came for an interview this morning and I saw her in his reading?"  Lorne threw the comment at Spike hoping to arouse his interest.

"Not if you told me she walked into your office herself and sang fly me to the effing moon."  He shot the empty paper cup into the bin and strode back to the door.  "She's gone, mate.  I'm not exactly happy about it but there's no point kidding ourselves anymore.  We tried to find her, we tried longer than anyone else, but we came up with nothing, not a damned thing."  Spike fumed, he hated the defeatist way he was talking but it was true.

"And that doesn't strike you as a bit strange in itself?  That we didn't even find a body, Spike?  There's no point in denying it, you and I both know it's weird."  Lorne didn't want to argue with the vampire, but he didn't want to give up on this lead either, he had a feeling this time.

"Weird, you want to talk about weird?  Weird is a bird who turns up from nowhere, reading people's minds, having visions and making everybody happy, even that moody ponce upstairs who hasn't cracked a smile in a century.  Weird is that same bint getting shot saving said moody ponces grumpy arse from a good dusting.  Weird, Lorne is a girl surviving a shooting, a kidnapping, and a bombing all in one day.  The whole situation was screwed up from the start, so the fact that there was no body isn't weird, it's just par for the frigging course." With his rant over, Spike yanked open his office door and strutted out into the corridor, leaving Lorne alone staring open mouthed after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Gunn, mate.  You got a minute?"  Spike strolled into his office without waiting for an answer.  He dropped into a wide comfortable chair in front of Gunn's desk.  "All right Lindsey.  How's the wife?"

"Fine thanks."  Lindsey gave Spike a confused smile.  He was, on general principals, wary of Spike, though they shared words often enough.

"You got a reason for being here, or did you just come by to shoot some with the guy's?"  Gunn enquired, putting the file he and Lindsey had been discussing back on his desk.

"The licence plate you wanted traced, it belongs to a bigwig corporate fella, Paul Nardino.  Got an estate out in the hills."  Spike handed Gunn a scrap of paper with an address scrawled on it.

"Thanks.  You look like hell."  Gunn commented putting the scrap of paper in his pocket.

"Feel like it too." Spike scowled and scratched his still aching head.

"Out on a school night, who is she?"  Lindsey asked intrigued, since meeting his now wife he had given up the week nights out with the guy's.  It was an easy sacrifice, he actually found he looked forward to going home when he had Rachel to go home too.

"No such luck.  Totally self inflicted this one."  Spike shrugged and stood to leave.

"You're not going to see Angel are you?"  Gunn enquired.

"Not if I can help it."  He scowled standing by the door.  "Why?"

"Got some stuff for him, I'll take it up later.  You and the boss had another run-in?"  Gunn couldn't help but ask, he secretly loved it when Spike and Angel had a fight.

"Nah, gay boy's mad at me cause I won most fanciable vampire in the office poll."  He shot back as he closed the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Miss Chance."  The man's nasal voice was as irritating as his uninvited presence, Anne took a deep breath and held it until her frustration passed.

"Mr Morris."  She smiled, trying hard not to allow her irritation to show.  This was the fifth time he had appeared, unannounced.   She was grateful for the work he gave her, but the unwanted attention was becoming a problem.  She made a mental note to talk to Paul about it, hopefully he could think of a way to put him off gently. 

"I thought we had decided you were going to call me Bruce."  He smarmed, his expensive smile showing far too many perfect teeth.  Her skin crawled as he laid his heavy hand on her shoulder.  She could think of many things she wanted to call him and Bruce wasn't among them.

"I thought we had decide we were going to keep things on a professional basis."  She asked, staring at his hand to indicate what she referring to.  He allowed the offending appendage to slip from her shoulder, his grin faltering only slightly.  Bruce Morris apparently wasn't accustomed to getting the brush off.  

"She should be grateful for the attention, it wasn't like she was inundated by male interest.  Damaged goods."  He thought.  "Do you have my reports?"  His voice had turned brusque.

"I gave them to Debbie yesterday."  She informed him, knowing full well that he had the desired reports on his desk.  Debbie had told her this morning when she called about the invoice.

"I haven't had time to go to the office."  He lied, "I've been in meetings all morning."

"Speaking of meetings, I have a new client due here any minute and I know how busy you are.  I'm sorry about the mix-up, it won't happen again."  She apologised even though the fault was not hers.  It was a habit she found impossible to break.  That instant the telephone rang and she picked it up before the second ring.

"Who's the slob in the Miami Vice suit?"  Rob giggled, he was on his cell phone and obviously just outside.

"Yes, Mr Phillips, I can e-mail that information to you right now, could you excuse me for just a second."  She slipped her hand over the receiver and looked back at Bruce.  "Was there something else you needed?"

"No, I'll see myself out."  He turned on his heel and stomped to the door, ruffled.

Anne returned to the phone to hear a buzzing, Rob had hung up already.

"That guy needs some fashion advice, quick."  He stated as he strolled into the lounge by the back door, all tanned, athletic, handsome and everything else a woman could want.  As usual all the best ones were either married or gay, at least that was what Sylvia told her.

"Thank you for saving me."  She sighed deeply and ran a hand through her hair.

"You look exhausted, why don't you take a break."  He asked as she turned back to the computer.

"I can't afford to.  Medical bills to pay, remember."

"Dad settled those months ago."  

"I know, so now I owe your Father, I can't keep taking things from your family, I'm indebted enough."

"It's your choice, but he won't accept your money, Anne.  If my old man wants to spend some of his cash on you, let him, he can afford it."  Rob vaulted the back of the sofa and landed full length, crossing his long legs at the ankles and putting his hands behind his head.

"This subject is not up for discussion Rob."  She told the recumbent figure, his roguish and childlike mischievousness reminded her of Spike, perhaps that was why she liked him so much.

"He's mad as hell because you won't let him buy you that chair."  He pointed to a picture tacked to the wall beside the computer monitor.  She kept it there as an incentive, reminding her what she was working for.

"That's not up for discussion either."  She picked up some papers from the desk and held them out for Rob's attention.  "Two cheques and a new client who would like a one on one consultation next Monday."  She informed him.

"Male or female?"  He enquired wiggling his eyebrows and smirking.

"Female, sorry."  She giggled, he was incorrigible. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gunn, in his now compulsory sharp suit, looked completely out of place amongst the dusty books and scrolls scattered haphazardly around Wesley's workspace.  The Englishman was deep in thought as he tried to decipher a passage from some obscure cult or other.  Gunn couldn't see what the attraction was with all the old stuff, but each to their own.

He glanced over Wesley's shoulder and grimaced as he saw a drawing of a wrinkly, two headed demon who looked as if he had just recently eviscerated a young woman who's body lay at it's feet.  "Nice."  He commented.

"I'm sure the artist would be grateful of your appreciation.  What brings you down here?"  Wesley removed his glasses and buffed the lenses.

"Got that address you were looking for.  Paul Nardino, CEO of Nardino and Sampson Inc.  Import/Export and totally legit as far as can tell.  What exactly do you want with him?"  He asked handing over the scrap of paper Spike had given him earlier.

"I was going home from .. I was going home the other night and I thought I saw someone I recognised in a car.  I just wanted to know if it was who I thought it was."

"Was it?"

"Probably not."

"Oh, how's that thing going, the thing you were travelling home from.  The thing with you and Fred?"  Gunn wanted Wes to know he knew things were getting serious between them.

"Em, very well as it happens."  He put his glasses back on and searched Gunn for a reaction, when none was forthcoming he coughed and looked back toward his books.

"Good, just so you know, you hurt her, I'll kill you."  Gunn studied Wes with a cold hard stare, then winked and smiled.  "Just foolin', you look good together, happy.  That's been in kinda short supply lately."

"Yes, it has.  Thank you, for the information I mean."  Wes clarified.

"No sweat."  Gunn nodded, knowing the thanks was for more than just an address.  He knew his approval wasn't necessary, but he was sure his blessing was appreciated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Okay, I started this not long after I finished Angel's Gift and I've been tweaking and adding to it since then.  I'm really not too sure of it, but I figure if I mess with it any longer I'm going to ruin it.  Give it too me straight (Gidget, it know you will) J or L.  Thanks.


	2. Chapter Two

Thanks to all who reviewed Ch1 – Janetta, CelticCat, and Eye of Botox (Just loving that name BTW) Imzadi, sorry about the UK/USA translation problems (Pot as in plant pot, not hash as it's known over here) That gave me a real laugh, brilliant visual don't you think? Gidget – As ever, thanks for the advice (and perseverance) as you can see I took it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Anne sat in front of yet another computer screen in Paul's home office. She was staring out of the side window at the cloudless and slowly darkening sky, flicking a pen through the fingers of her right hand with practiced skill and speed. Her mind was filled with a jumble of scattered memories and guilty recriminations. The frequency of the dream, Jamie's innocent mention of an angel in her bedroom and the lack of sleep all contributing to her neurotic behaviour.  
  
Recently her thoughts were never far from Angel, even on the best of day's. The smallest most unremarkable things could effortlessly summon memories of him. With all the control she exerted on her mind and it's various abilities, this was something she seemed utterly unable or unwilling to restrain.  
  
She couldn't make up her mind if it was purely guilt which kept him with her, or a selfish inconsolable yearning for the life she could have had if she had saved him. Another of the many possibilities which she didn't consider, was that she could be holding on so tightly to his memory as a way of denying he was really gone.  
  
Whatever the reason, Anne was finding focusing on her general day to day living a practical impossibility.  
  
"So I'll need a print out of the minutes for the last meeting and a new itinerary including Scott Gleeson's presentation on the new accounting software." Paul turned to her expecting her to be dexterously tapping on the keyboard as she usually was, instead she sat motionless and appeared to be miles away.  
  
"And I thought the board could call me Satan. Do you think if I grew a pair of horns and a tail people would pay more attention to what I have to say?"  
  
"Yes, I'm sure that would be fine." She nodded absently, continuing to pass the pen through her fingers.  
  
Paul shook his head and laughed quietly. "If I didn't know you better I'd think it was a guy who had you this distracted?" When she gave no reaction he stood and walked across the room to her desk. "Anne?"  
  
"Yes, minutes for the last meeting." She dropped the pen and grasped for the mouse, Paul's hand stopping her midway.  
  
"You're a million miles from here, what's got you so preoccupied that you can't concentrate on my earth shatteringly important AGM?" He perched on the corner of her desk and folded his arms across his chest.  
  
Memories of Angel swept through her mind again and she did her best to dismiss them. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."  
  
"No apologies, reasons only please." Paul looked down at her with mild concern and waited.  
  
In appearance Paul was an older version of Rob. The self-made millionaire was distinguished, handsome and intelligent. He could be ruthless in his business undertakings but at home he was a loving and considerate Husband and Father. Though there were times when his patience and tolerance were both tested and exhausted he managed to hang on to some form of family life. Sylvia had a lot to do with that.  
  
"Its nothing, honestly." She lied and blushed, knowing deceitfulness was far from a strength she possessed.  
  
"Okay either you don't want to talk about this, or you want me to keep asking until I wear you down? I've been around enough women to know their methods, but not their objectives. Which is it?"  
  
"The first one." Honesty always suited her best.  
  
"Daddy!" Jamie ran into the room and launched himself at his father. Paul's face was instantly alight, his broad smile managing to touch every feature and make it practically sing with affection.  
  
Anne could feel the warmth of Paul's feelings for his Son and the fierce abandon of Jamie's adoration for his Father. Strong emotions, love, hate, jealousy, betrayal, guilt and the like, were the most difficult to block out. Run of the mill feelings felt like waves on a beach, rolling in and out with out leaving a trace. Deeper emotions were more like tsunami's, without defences they could be devastating.  
  
"Mommy said I was to come and 'trupt you because you're s'posed to be helping cook dinner." The boy nodded, proud of himself for passing on the message.  
  
"That would be interrupt, kiddo, but I get the hint. Are you staying for dinner, Anne?" Paul asked still grinning and hugging his Son.  
  
"No, thank you. I have some work to do for Rob and I'll have to make the changes to the itinerary you asked for. I'll e-mail those to Marie later if that's okay."  
  
"Fine." Paul was tickling Jamie who was giggling madly and squirming in his fathers arms.  
  
"Gerroff." The three year old squeaked between hiccups.  
  
Anne was smiling at their delightful foolishness and making her way toward the door when she was stuck by the gruesome vision. A pack of five vampires were chasing three young women, dragging them screaming into an alley. She halted for only a second before continuing on her way. She swallowed hard and blinked in an attempt to dispel the vicious images of the vampires feeding.  
  
There was an instant, as there always was since her time with Angel, when she thought she should tell someone. She could call the police, she could even try to call Wesley and leave an anonymous message with some receptionist at Wolfram & Hart. Then the old fear and cowardice returned and she knew she would do nothing.  
  
Making her way through the vast garden Anne remembered all the visions she'd had while trapped in Meenotuk's court. All the times she had watched people die horrid and needless deaths without once believing she could do anything to prevent them. The memories brought no comfort, they only succeeded in adding to her distress. Then she remembered the buzz she'd felt knowing that she had, in her small way, helped some people by passing on the information to Angel.  
  
"Angel, again. Why must I always return to Angel?" She spoke aloud in the twilit garden. She halted on the wide path and hugged herself tightly, weeping shamelessly, abandoning herself to the guilt induced despair. The sound was lonely and wretched. Sobs escaped her and she was powerless to stop them, this outburst had been building for sometime. Keeping her emotions so ruthlessly repressed was a strain that was at times impossible for her to maintain.  
  
Eventually she managed to regain enough composure to return to her home. She was grateful that Rob was out on his date. She didn't want to have to explain why her eyes were red and her throat raw. For once she ignored the PC in the corner of the lounge and made straight for her room, work could wait. A shower and hot drink and she would be ready to face the world again.  
  
"Face the world. That's rich." She sneered, shaking her head at her self deception. "You can't even face the truth."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"I have to call Angel." Cordelia gasped and rummaged frantically in her purse, searching for her cell phone.  
  
"Another one? Are you okay?" Blake enquired, earnest grey eyes searching Cordelia's face.  
  
"Yeah, just, you know. It's not exactly the movie I was hoping for?" She shrugged as she dialled Angel's office number, placing a hand on top of her dates to reassure him she was fine.  
  
Angel sighed and cursed under his breath as the telephones shrill tones drilled into his over taxed brain.  
  
"Which part of hold all my calls did she miss." He muttered snatching up the receiver, already composing a tirade of abuse to hurl at Harmony.  
  
His expression turned from fury to confusion when the noise continued, despite the fact that he held the receiver in his hand. It took a second to register the sound was coming from the other phone. "Angel." He sighed, wondering why the person calling didn't just use his direct line.  
  
"Thought I'd try out the bat phone." Cordelia quipped, answering his unspoken question. The second line had been her idea. When she heard no reply she figured Angel wasn't in the mood for idle chat. "No surprise there then." She thought before giving him the details of her vision.  
  
"There's going to be a vampire attack." She stated then paused for him to make some form of response. When none was forthcoming she continued, her tone clipped. "In an alley off Scotland Street, there was a bar across the street with a symbol in the window, like a leaf or something."  
  
"A shamrock?" Blake's finger drew a rough shape in the air and Cordelia nodded her thanks.  
  
"It was a shamrock, Angel. Angel are you even listening?" Her brow wrinkled as her ire rose.  
  
"I got it. Scotland Street, alley, bar with a shamrock. Are you with someone?" He knew the answer, he just wanted to hear her admit it.  
  
"There's no time for that now. We can talk about it later." Her eyes locked on Blake and he raised a questioning eyebrow. They had talked about her relationship with Angel before and he was still waiting for a satisfactory answer. She squeezed his hand and hoped he wouldn't press her too strongly on the subject. Lawyers had ways of questioning people Hitler would have appreciated.  
  
Without another word Angel replaced the receiver, pulled a stake from his desk drawer and headed for his private elevator.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"There's something wrong with him." Cordelia stated as she flipped her cell phone closed. She stared at it thoughtfully as though it could provide the reason for Angel's irritability.  
  
"You got that from a thirty second phone call?" Blake knew it was pointless to try changing the subject. Cordy was as single minded as a terrier when it came to Angel, or any of her old friends.  
  
"I got that when he picked up the phone." She replied. "He's ..." She searched for a word to adequately describe Angel's recent behaviour.  
  
"Sullen, morose, surly, or how about just plain moody?" Blake offered his assistance and Cordelia shot him a disapproving glare.  
  
"No, I'm not talking about how he usually is. It's like he's waiting for something. Expectant, that's the word I was looking for."  
  
"I don't follow." He wasn't surprised, he rarely followed Cordelia's mental leaps where Angel was concerned.  
  
"Babe, I don't expect you to. Angel's hard to figure sometimes, even for me and I've known him like, forever. He tries to keep up this cool, calm, I've got everything under control front but sometimes he's just as clueless as the rest of us." Cordy was trying to cram all her knowledge into one sentence. After she said it she realised it was futile.  
  
"Gee, that gives me a real feeling of job security. Wolfram & Hart and my entire livelihood in the hands of a clueless vampire." He sighed and drummed his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you all done here? Can we go see that movie now, or would you rather go home?"  
  
"No, I'm not going to let you down again. We are going to see this movie and I am going to have a good time, I promise." She smiled and he could see she was trying her best to look interested. He nodded and smiled back then started the engine and drove out of the cinema parking lot toward her apartment.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rob towered over Anne and glared as best he could in his semi inebriated state. "Save it now or loose it, the choice is yours." He swayed slightly and put a hand on the desk to steady himself.  
  
"I'm not done yet." Anne answered him, trying hard to ignore Jeff yelling from the kitchen that they were out of potato chips.  
  
"Wrong answer." Rob bent and his hand hung ominously over the power button on the CPU.  
  
"Rob, don't, please?" She grabbed his hand before it could deal the killing blow to the document she was working on.  
  
"Save it, turn it off and come talk to us." He ordered shaking a finger at her like an overbearing Mother, a very drunk overbearing Mother.  
  
"Yes, sir." She sniggered and did as she was told.  
  
Job complete, she turned to see Jeff stretched out on the sofa with a bag of marshmallows in his lap and an open quart of chocolate fudge ice cream in his hand. He was in exactly the same condition as Rob, his smoky grey eyes were bright and glassy.  
  
Though usually ultra strict in his appearance, Jeff appeared to have slipped slightly. His open neck black and grey print shirt was creased and the top three buttons were undone. He was shorter that Rob by a couple of inches, his light brown hair was longer and more elaborately styled, though it looked as if it could use some work at the moment. He tossed a spoon to Rob who joined him on the sofa with a wicked and greedy chuckle.  
  
"'Ont 'ume?" Jeff asked with the spoon still in his mouth. She shook her head and smiled graciously.  
  
"How was the club?" She asked, waiting for one of them to finish their mouthful of ice cream.  
  
"Fabulous." Jeff managed to reply as he dug his spoon ravenously into the carton for another helping.  
  
"André got really drunk and made a fool of himself on the dance floor with Theo, it was hilarious." Rob giggled, girlishly. "He kept trying to undress him, Theo got really mad and slapped him. He stormed out and André spent the rest of the night trying to call him and leaving messages on his voice mail. They are sooo over."  
  
"Theo will forgive him, he always does." Jeff informed them, sagely. Anne might have been able to take him more seriously if he didn't have half a marshmallow stuck to his chin.  
  
"I'm not so sure this time." Rob was trying to be serious and missing by a mile. He seemed incapable of stifling his sniggering.  
  
"Not sure," Jeff scoffed, plucking at the offending marshmallow and popping it into his mouth. "He forgave André for cheating on him with Stephan didn't he? If Theo can forgive that he can forgive anything."  
  
Anne was lost after the initial 'fabulous' but she listened carefully to their gossiping. It was refreshing to listen to normal conversation, even if it was alcohol induced nattering.  
  
She had been spending far to much time soul searching lately. Idle chit chat and light hearted conversations were just what she wanted.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel pulled off his shirt and held it up to the light, looking at the large tear and shaking his head. He scrunched it into a ball and threw it toward the bin missing by inches. Opening his bathroom cabinet he removed some antiseptic and gauze then wandered into the kitchen for some blood. He poured the thick red fluid into a glass and gulped it thirstily, not even bothering to warm it first.  
  
After rinsing the glass he wandered into the lounge and set about roughly cleaning the wound in his side. He covered it with the gauze and slumped in a chair facing the huge windows. He had dispatched the five vampires, the fight taking a disappointingly short time. They put up a decent enough fight, he was just feeling angrier than usual. He had wanted something more substantial than a few blood thirsty vampires on the rampage, but beggars couldn't be choosers and he took his thrills where he could get them lately.  
  
His thoughts returned to Cordelia and he imagined her with Blake, enjoying herself and having a 'normal' relationship, with a 'normal' guy. He ran a hand through his hair and criticized his selfishness. Begrudging her happiness was unbelievably cruel. He wanted more than anything for her to be happy, he just wished it was something he could have given her.  
  
He eyed the night sky, searching for strength and patience, finding only the cold hard light of the moon with it's remorseless promise of a million more nights spent alone. How could lovers find that damned lonely planet romantic?  
  
He stood and paced the room trying to find something to distract his thoughts from Cordelia. His eyes lit upon the thin manila file sitting on the edge of the table and he picked it up.  
  
A few thin, typed and hand written pages, not much to show for an entire life. He flipped it open and stared at the picture which was paper clipped inside the front page, the same picture both Spike and Lorne looked at. Ariane smiled back at him from the flat black and white print, her gleaming hair caught forever flowing out behind her.  
  
Putting the pieces of Ari's life together had become a hobby for him. When he wanted to escape for a while he picked up the meagre information he had and did some good old fashioned investigating. He even managed to convince himself the only reason he was doing it was just to keep his hand in, no point in loosing all his old skills. He turned the page and read for the hundredth time what he had discovered about her life.  
  
Born: 13 January 1982. The name on her birth certificate, Ariane Smith. Mother, Christine Anne Smith, Father Unknown.  
  
Christine Smith, who the hospital records had identified as a homeless woman, died from complications during childbirth, leaving her newborn daughter alone in the world. It appeared from the second Ari was born her life was to be a catalogue of lonely and bizarre events.  
  
The orphaned baby had been fostered by a family named Cooke. According to the official records she had enjoyed a normal and happy life until a suspicious house fire in the spring of 1989 destroyed the house and all of it's inhabitants. The authorities believed Ariane had also perished in the fire but she had apparently been saved and taken to Lord Meenotuk. Details on that part of the story were sketchy to say the least but from the social service photographs it was easy to see the Ariane he recognised in the cute grinning three year old in the picture.  
  
Angel had discovered most of his information from Daniel who he had found working in a theme bar in Vegas called the Acropolis . He seemed to be the only one who knew anything about her, the only one still alive and willing to talk that was.  
  
Daniel, though he looked no more than seventeen, was in fact twenty one and had been born into Meenotuk's household. He managed to fill in many of the blanks between her bestowal and her offering to Angel.  
  
He had been one of Lord Meenotuk's personal attendants, spending much of his day in his private chambers. Most of the information he had gathered had been over heard conversations between Meenotuk, Martin and certain other members of his trusted council.  
  
Angel was informed it was unusual for a 'youngling' to be bestowed or accepted into the gathering. Most of them were born into a life of servitude, the children of other gathering members. It was more common for those in their late twenties or older to be passed on much as Ari had been gifted to Angel.  
  
Meenotuk was a cruel and devious man. Anyone Angel had questioned had agreed with that, if nothing else. He enjoyed nothing better than tormenting and punishing his pets. Daniel mentioned that Ariane seemed to be his favourite victim, due in part to the fact that she had taken so long to break. She had stood up to him much longer than any of the others, calling upon reserves of will no one had expected. It had been the execution of Martin which had caused her eventual emotional collapse. That was the day she had been condemned to the cell Angel had been shown.  
  
Lord Meenotuk took great delight in telling Ariane, had her mind reading abilities not been evident when she was bestowed to him, he would not have accepted her at all. She had nothing else to offer him, no other talents and she was far from beautiful. He enjoyed nothing better than degrading her in front of Martin, he never called her by name but referred to her as his little beast.  
  
It had been later when she was an adolescent that Martin approached Meenotuk to report other gifts Ariane seemed to possess. Limited visions, thought transference, empathic abilities and an odd capacity to project her emotions onto others. Martin had been ordered to tell her nothing of these unless they became uncontrollable.  
  
From then on Meenotuk had regularly summoned her to his rooms to 'torture'. She was under the impression it was a simple game to occupy his time and relieve his tedium. In fact he used these engagements to hone her ability. He saw it as a training session, a way of using her skills without alerting her to their presence. She would leave his chamber exhausted, distressed and close to tears. He on the other hand would be filled with energy and bursting with good humour.  
  
Angel could imagine the grotesque Lord gleefully absorbing all the fear and anger that Ariane had exuded during their 'training sessions'. His own anger spilled over and he threw the folder across the room, it's contents falling like autumn leaves over his floor. The photograph landed face up close to his foot and be bent to pick it up, looking into the smiling eyes of the pretty girl.  
  
"I'm obsessing about a dead girl. This is not good." He muttered to the empty room.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
There was a cough and a shuffling of feet at the door of Rathlyn's bed chamber. He grunted and pushed the woman to the floor where she landed in a heap and glared at him with undisguised fury. He tore the sheet from his bed and wrapped it about himself as he stormed to the door.  
  
"What do you want?" He barked as Snort stood with his head bowed and his hands clutched together, the knuckles white and bloodless with pressure.  
  
"You asked to be updated on any matters concerning the key, sire." Snort lifted his head but refused to meet the warriors eyes.  
  
"And?" He snarled as the woman barged out his room still naked, surprising Snort.  
  
"Oh, my." He couldn't contain his shock at the sight of the naked female, though there was no attraction. Pedagogic Myoran's were born eunuchs. He fought to regain his composure and stuttering in an effort to impart the intelligence he had been given. "Yes, the key, she released her powers moments ago and from what we could record they are more than strong enough to open the gateway." He reported, thankful he now had some definitive information for his leader.  
  
"Good news at last, Snort." Rathlyn chortled, though the sound was more akin to a series of animal yelps. He gave the frail mans shoulder a light tap that sent him staggering into the wall. "I shall pass on this information to the King at once." 


	3. Chapter Three

**Acknowledgements:  **

**Gidgetgirl: **I'm sorry to loose you but good luck with the real thing.  I wish I had half your luck (and talent of course).

**Imzadi**: I promise more Lindsey and Rachel as soon as I can work it in.

**SSj-Mirai_Trunks**:  I'm looking forward to your comments on this chapter, just don't yell at me, I'm fragile (Ha-Ha).

**CelticCat:** As for you,  ta mate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Anne rolled out of bed at seven the next morning after hours of lying awake.  She tried to be as quiet as possible in the kitchen as she filled the coffee machine and took a tall glass of orange juice into the deserted garden.  She sat rolling the cool glass between her hands, considering the dream that had awoken her this morning.  It had been similar to the others but there had been noticeable differences, confusing differences.

She and Angel were no longer in Harmony's office for one thing.  This dream had taken place in the foyer.  That wasn't a huge issue in itself as the actual event had occurred there.  The six shots had been the same, she had felt all of them tearing and searing.  The last causing her to collapse into Angel, only this time when she opened her eyes instead of shifting particles, he was still present.  They were lying in her ruby blood, side by side on the tiled floor.  The most remarkable difference of all was that Angel spoke to her, just one word.  "Why?"  He had whispered, wounded eyes reflecting her dual image, before he disintegrated into billowing dust.

"Why indeed?"  She spoke quietly, knowing there was no one close by to hear her.  She couldn't understand why, after so long her subconscious decided to change the format of her dream.  There had been subtle alterations before, time of day, clothing, but nothing this obvious, ever.

She got the feeling it wasn't only the dream that was changing.  Things felt different, she felt different.  There was a strange sense of expectation hanging over her, like she was just biding her time until some unknown event took place.  She took a healthy gulp of juice from her condensation jewelled glass and looked at the sky, blue and cloudless again.  It was just the same as always, glorious sunshine sparkling on the water of Paul's beautifully designed pool area.

The garden was a flawless recreation of a desert oasis, complete with palm trees and lush green vegetation.  It managed to give the impression of a hidden paradise in the middle of the chaos that was life in the big city.  The sprinklers had only just halted and Anne could hear the gentle dripping of water, adding to the oasis charade.

Again she was faced with an infinite number of connotations this new intuition opened up before her.  She wondered if perhaps the time had come to leave the City of Angels and search for a place with less connection to the man who haunted her and the others she had betrayed.  She took several deep breaths and stilled her mind, looking around her and reminding herself it was only a dream.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the garden and the lapping of the water in the pool.  The sound of her own breathing and soft whooshing of hot blood through the arteries closest to her ears.  It was a calming technique Martin had taught her, she had been using for many years.  At first it had been a means of focusing her mind, more recently she had returned to it in order to restrain her gifts.  

"What's she up too over there?"  Jeff enquired of Rob as they stood beside the door watching Anne through the screen of plants.

"I think it's a kind of mental Tai Chi or something.  She does it every morning, sometimes a couple of times a day.  She's been doing it more often lately."  He answered running his hands over Jeff's bare shoulders with unconcealed lust.

"She needs a man in her life."  Jeff smirked and entwined his fingers through Rob's strong hands, halting his erotic stroking.

"I need one more."  Rob whispered as he tugged his mate back in the direction of the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Spike, calm down and just tell me what the problem is."  Angel sighed deeply and waited for the profanities to cease or at least diminish a little.

"…Genghis Chase and her sodding crew of Ted Baker warriors…"  Spike was storming about the office throwing his arms in wide flapping circles and gesticulating madly toward the open office door,  Angel couldn't hide his smirk of delinquent delight at Spikes juvenile display of fury.  "….almost gave me a bloody cavity search on the way upstairs.  Somebody wants to tell the chit I'm not working for the dark side anymore."

"I'll talk to her."  Angel nodded with sage like patience and scanned his desk, which was uncharacteristically tidy.

"It ain't fair, and I'm not gonna ….  What did you say?"  Spike jerked his head around, startled by Angel's lack of sarcasm.  He stared at him, confusion replacing the previous anger on his face.

"I said I'd talk to her.  That was what that whole crazy flapping chicken act was for, right?  Are we done?"  Angel was feeling exceptionally amiable this morning.  Which was in itself unusual, but coupled with the loss of around three hours of good sleep it was down right unnerving.  Spike continued to stare at him mistrustfully.

"What's that look for?"  Angel gave the impression he was loosing patience, in fact he wasn't in the least bit bothered.

"Ariane's ghost been in here?"  Spike was one of the few people who still spoke her name in Angel's presence.

"What?  Why?"  Angel instantly became defensive.  He was surprised by the mention of the one person who seemed to be in the forefront of his mind so often lately.

"You're not acting like a fairy with a wand up his arse, that's all.  Thought maybe someone was giving you the old happy thoughts mojo again."

"Get out, Spike."  Angel plucked a random file from his in-tray and pretended to read it.  

"There's something wrong with you."  Spike shook his head and waggled a threatening finger at his grand sire.  He made hastily for the door as though afraid of being infected by whatever it was he imagined Angel had been afflicted with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Yes, Mr Morris.  I understand exactly what you're looking for.  No, there's no need to come all the way over here, just have Debbie fax me the notes as usual.  If I have any problems at all I'll call.  No, really, please, Mr Morris.  The sooner I have them the sooner I can start work on them.  If I wait for you to bring them it will delay things considerably.  I would have no chance of returning them to you before the end of the day."  Anne was doing her best to dissuade Bruce Morris from yet another unnecessary visit.

She had been on the telephone for close to twenty minutes discussing something that could have been faxed and started fifteen minutes ago.  She took the receiver from her ear and sighed, wondering how long it would take for Morris to take the hint that she wasn't interested in anything but the work he gave her.

She could hear his annoying voice still yammering on and on, she had to stop herself from hanging up on him.  It was a challenge to return the phone to her ear.

"I'm sure it will be fine.  Thank you, goodbye."  Finally she gratefully released the handset and  returned her attention to balancing Rob's monthly accounts.  

He detested the chore and she could tell just by looking at his filing that he relied on the chaos theory more than any particular accounting model.  Though she was far from an accountant herself she did seem to have a more organized way of working.  At least when she was finished Rob's accountant had a decent place to start.

"Leave that, you can do it tomorrow."  Rob slalomed the wingback chair, the sofa and made straight for Anne.

"I can do it now if you leave me alone."  She racked her hands through her hair and dropped her head low between her shoulders.  Rob put his warm hands gently on her neck and massaged the knotted muscles beneath her soft skin.

"Why so tense?"  He enquired with more casualness than he felt.  He was genuinely worried about her, she seemed to be troubled lately.

"Bruce Morris was just on the phone.  Stop being so dramatic."  She scolded him adding a good natured nudge of her elbow for emphasis.

"He's such a …. What's that word you use?"

"Ponce."  She giggled, it was a Spikeism she couldn't seem to let go.

"That's it.  He's such a ponce."  Rob smiled and ran his hand further over toward her shoulders rubbing a little harder.

"Ouch."  She winced and pulled her right shoulder out of his grasp.  Rob could see the two rough scars high on her back.  He knew there was a larger matching set on the front, just below her collar bone.

"Oh honey, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to.."

"Don't worry about it."  She pulled her sweater back over her shoulders self-consciously and rubbed at the wicked marks two of the bullets, the two which had killed Angel, had left on her flesh.

"You don't have to hide those you know.  They're nothing to be embarrassed about."  Rob moved from behind her to lean on the wall beside the computer screen.

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm ashamed."  The words had escaped her mutinous mouth before she could stop them.

She had told the Nardino family nothing of what had happened to her before Paul found her in the gutter.  They had come to the misguided conclusion that she didn't remember much of it.  She had made no effort to alter their assumption.  It was hard enough for her to deal with the events of her past, let alone explain them to other people.

"Ashamed?  That's a strong word.  What do you have to be ashamed of?"  Rob was curious and concerned in equal measure.  He could see by the smudgy dark crescents beneath her alluring eyes that she was not sleeping well.  She was loosing weight and his Father had mentioned she was often preoccupied.  That and her apparent reluctance to talk about her life before they met made him uneasy.  

Anne's mouth worked soundlessly, her eyes shifting from Rob to the window, to any other area she could find to avoid eye contact with him.  "There's no need to think up an excuse, Anne.  If you don't want to talk you don't have to, I'm not going to force you."  He pushed himself from the wall and strolled over to the kitchen with all the false detachment he could muster.

"Rob, I …."  She couldn't think of what to say.  Everything she could think of sounded hollow or disrespectful.  She didn't want to lie and keeping secrets didn't seem to be working well for her either.  "There are many things I have to be ashamed of.  My scars remind me of times I'd prefer to forget."

"_People_ you'd prefer to forget?"  He took a bottle of spring water from the refrigerator and unscrewed the cap, turning to her before swigging from the bottle.

"Those too."  She admitted, turning toward him with tear brimmed eyes.

"A problem shared is a problem halved."  Rob echoed Lorne's words and she couldn't help but smile weakly.  It seemed fate was forcing her to remember all of the individuals she was struggling to forget.

"I'm not very good at sharing."  She commented, sniffing back the tears and wiping her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater.

"Never!"  Rob chided and pulled another bottle from the fridge and tossed it to her.  "What say I find us some really unhealthy food and we talk about it?"

"I'm not sure."  She shook her head, afraid if she started talking she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Double fudge mint choc chip?"  He stated and wiggled his eyebrows emphatically.

"That's low, even for you."  She was a far cry from convinced, but she knew she wouldn't get away from Rob without telling him something.  Just how much he would believe was a whole different story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Lorne paced his office wondering where to go next with his information on Ariane.  He couldn't take it to Angel, that was for sure.  Angel had almost fired him because of  the last lead he took him.  Granted he had told him one of his mystic buddies had thought he had seen her in an adult movie.

He couldn't go to Cordelia, she had a kind of blind spot when it came to Ariane.  Lorne figured it came from not meeting her face to face, or the fact that she played a pivotal part in almost getting Angel killed.  Either way, he figured she was a no-no.

Before he could continue his mental Rolodex search Spike barged in and planted himself on Lorne's sofa.

"What's the lead."  The words came out sounding like a curse.  It was almost like he couldn't help himself and it was eating him up inside.

"Hello to you too, handsome.   I'm not sure I should tell you."  Lorne crossed his arms over his chest and huffed.

"Stick to what you're good at demon, you're a crap liar."  Spike slumped further into the sofa and waited for Lorne to spill the beans.

"Well, Spike-alicious, since you asked so nicely.   Ricky, he's the Shaggy look-a-like and would be grease monkey I read, he was driving the second Mercedes, the one Angel cakes and Fred were tracking.  Our sunbeam was in the car with him and told him it was going to go ka-boom.  Smart little sparky even told him the exact time the fireworks were going to start.  He told me he dumped her out of the car, said something told him he couldn't let her die.  Like we need a team of mystics to tell us who that was.  He couldn't remember exactly where he was, he had driven all over the city before heading out to the coast."  Lorne stared excitedly toward Spike, anxious for his reaction.

"Is that it?"  The vampire asked in amazement.  "That's your big lead?  God almighty, I thought you said you had something."  He pushed himself out the sofa, shaking his head.

"It _is_ something."  Lorne insisted.  "She was alive, that's good for a start, and if she was alive then she would have had to have gone to a hospital, right?"

"Right, of course, hospitals why didn't we think to look there."  Spike slapped the heal of his hand into his forehead with theatrical enthusiasm then glared at Lorne with disgust.  "Those were the first places we checked.  You're horns must be loose or something.  No Jane Doe's with gun shot wounds.  Anything else before I go back to my pathetic excuse for an office?"

"What if she wasn't registered as a Jane Doe?"  Lorne couldn't keep the smugness out of his reply.

"We checked for any Ariane's too, Jeez, it was Angel _Investigations_, Lorne or did you forget, they used to do this for a living?  I know he's not exactly Einstein but long, tall and broody did want to find her."

Lorne grinned and pulled a thin sheet of paper from his desk drawer, handing it to Spike with great ceremony.  "Well, precious, since no one took me seriously I did a little digging of my own.  Miss Anne Chance, care of Mr Paul Nardino, emergency care given at the Hoffmann clinic.  Probably more exclusive than anything we would have checked under normal circumstances."  Lorne looked very please with himself.

"Are you sure it's her?"  Spike snatched the proffered sheet from the demons green fingers, stared at the page and skimmed its contents.

"Nope, that's why I told _you_ about it.  Now who's the moron?"

"Fine, I take it back, you're a bloody genius.  What does Paul Nardino have to do with this?  And why was Gunn tracing a car belonging to him?"  Spikes mind was racing in too many directions at once, it was hard for Lorne to keep up.

"Gunn?  What?"  He watched Spike as he left his office.  "You're welcome."  He yelled as the door closed.


	4. Chapter Four

CelticCat: Award nomination, my goodness I'm so embarrassed. I thought I was pretty pants at this compared to you.  
  
Imzadi: Take deep breaths and give me time to work on the Lindsey thing. I'll try to make it worth your while.  
  
I've just got the enhanced stats enabled and I've noticed the amount of people who are reading but not reviewing. I didn't know about you before so I should thank you for your visit, I hope you are enjoying this fic.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Spike paced his office and cursed several times just for the hell of it. He lifted the mug of blood from his desk and took a swig, wiping his glistening mouth with the back of his hand and leaving a red smear across his face in the process.  
  
He could hear high-heeled footsteps approaching along the corridor and leapt into his chair, putting his feet on the desk and assuming his best "I've been like this for hours" posture. He just had time to pull his copy of playboy from the bottom drawer and open it before his office door creaked open.  
  
"Hard at it I see." Harmony glared at him with her customary sneer of distaste.  
  
"Slummin it a bit coming all the way down here, aren't you luv? Didn't the Boss tell you the phones work down here too?"  
  
"It's off the hook, Spike." She drawled, motioning toward the receiver dangling from the edge of his desk onto the floor. "Angel wants to see you. Now." She turned on her heel and made for the door swinging her hips for all they were worth. Spike's rebellious eyes appraised her exit but turned back to his publication before she could spot him.  
  
"Tell him I'm busy." He quipped as he turned the magazine on its side to offer a better view of the naked woman draped seductively over the hood of a silver viper.  
  
"Why should I?" She queried as she pulled the door open. "I work for Angel, not you, anyway I think it might be important."  
  
"That ponce thinks everything he does is important. God what I wouldn't give for a nice visit from a hell bent warrior cult, or a juicy crop of virgin sacrifices." He stretched languidly, tipping his chair back slightly and balancing with cat like agility.  
  
"What if I told you the slayer was in town?" Spike over extended his leg in surprise at the reference to a slayer, the chair went over with a very satisfying clatter. He lay on the floor at Harmony's feet and she grinned down at him, her smile almost broad enough to split her head in two.  
  
"Buffy?" Spike's throat was suddenly dry and he choked on the name.  
  
"No, but Angel said mentioning her would be enough to get you out of that chair." She shot him a cheeky wink and let the door swing closed on the prone vampire.  
  
"Son of a .... sodding wanker's going to pay for that." Spike muttered as he regained his feet and straightened his shirt. He hauled his door open almost hard enough to pull it from it's groaning hinges and followed Harmony along the corridor.  
  
By the time Spike reached Angel's office most of the others had already taken their accustomed places.  
  
Angel, as ever perched on the front of his desk with his arms crossed over his chest in his smug and annoying, "heap big chief" pose. Spike seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he used a stance frighteningly similar on a regular basis.  
  
Gunn sat in one of the chairs in front of Angel, with Wesley occupying it's twin. Fred balanced on the arm of Wesley's chair with her hand resting on his shoulder.  
  
Lorne had returned to his favourite place, mixing drinks at the well- stocked liquor cabinet. At present he was shaking the hell out of a cloudy white concoction that looked like a body fluid Spike wouldn't care drink.  
  
Cordelia entered just after Spike speaking on her ever-present head set. Barking orders with more venom than Angel ever could.  
  
"Keep a close eye on those Tech guy's." She informed someone firmly. "That's a restricted area. Make sure they're debriefed before they go back to their department, and Barclay, I'm holding you fully responsible for this mess." She sighed and removed the ear piece with obvious displeasure.  
  
"Something I should know about?" Angel asked, his tone was conversational but his eyes displayed more than simple curiosity.  
  
"I'm handling it." She replied duplicating his tone exactly. "What's so important that you drag us all up here?"  
  
"That was my question?" Spike muttered keeping to the back of the room and leaning his back against the door.  
  
"Am I tearing you away from something important?" Angel queried, his eyes glinting with mirth. "You must have ogled that copy of playboy from cover to cover by now."  
  
"Do you want to borrow it? I hear the articles can be very interesting for cross dressing fairies like yourself." Spike replied giving Angel a helpful smile.  
  
"I've got a client to see in twenty minutes, do you think we could dispense with the insults for once?" Gunn enquired with more ire than he felt. Spike and Angel's quarrels were fun to watch.  
  
"Wes, this one's all yours." Angel rose from his position and wandered over to the window, his mind on other things.  
  
"Yes, certainly. Thank you, Angel, Em." Wesley coughed and sat forward in his chair, clasping his hands together and placing his knuckles on his chin. "I have come across some disturbing information regarding a new threat in the city." He allowed his eyes to scan the others, taking time to consider his next words carefully.  
  
"Stop with the Sherlock Holmes act, watcher. Why don't you skip the war and peace effort and give us the movie version?" Spike couldn't bear to sit through another drawn out, sissy assed explanation of something that would take any "normal" person two minutes to impart. "Brits and their love of amateur dramatics." He thought to himself, discounting his own origins completely.  
  
Gunn sniggered, then sobered swiftly when he noticed Wesley's frosty expression.  
  
"Quite." The Englishman sulked and glared at Spike then regained his composure and continued. "There have been several recent sightings of Myoran warriors within the city. We have had reports from a number reliable of sources that these men are apparently searching for something. No one seems to know quite what they are looking for, only that it is of great importance and they will stop at nothing to obtain it."  
  
"Myoran's?" Cordelia shrugged and waited for Wesley to provide more details.  
  
"Nasty buggers, by all accounts." Spike cut in again, forcing Wesley to snap his mouth closed and huff loudly. "Stole your thunder did I, Percy. Sorry bout that, but I've got a date tonight." He checked his watch and noticed it was only just approaching 3 pm.  
  
"Their dimension is similar to that of our own middle ages. There are two tribes the Myoran's and the Quintarhan's, each ruled by it's own monarch." Wesley spoke to the group still slightly ruffled by Spike's continuous interruptions.  
  
"We need to find out what they're after." Angel spoke without turning, his attention still on the street below. "Spike, why don't you make yourself useful and do that thing you do."  
  
"What, hang around here looking handsome and generally brightening up the place?" He quipped.  
  
"Hanging around seedy dives with dubious characters and listening to gossip, was more what I had in mind." Angel shot back. "Myoran warriors don't venture out of their territory with out good reason. They've had their hands full, fighting a civil war for a hundred years."  
  
"King Myor and King Quintarh have been locked in conflict for an extremely long time. It's strange to think it all began over a woman, according to myth of course."  
  
"Women are the root of all evil." Spike muttered spitefully more to himself than anyone present.  
  
"War's are expensive, it could be money they're after." Gunn postulated, ignoring Spike's sexist remark.  
  
"There's no point in trying to guess what they're up to. We need decent intelligence." Angel replied caught in his own speculations.  
  
"So you're sending Spike?" Cordy scoffed with her own tactless and acerbic flourish.  
  
"Oy, watch it!" Spike squared his shoulders and took several paces toward her.  
  
"Cordy, that's enough. Spike, go do your job."  
  
"Bollocks to that, and bollocks to you too. I'm not your bloody skivvy, Angel. Do your own frigging dirty work." Spike changed direction and stormed toward the office door.  
  
"Spike." Angel spoke quietly but with enough force to halt the other vampire in his tracks.  
  
He turned, his blue eyes blazing. "What?"  
  
Angel fished in his pocket and removed a set of keys. "Take the viper." He tossed the keys, which Spike caught deftly with one hand.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rob had turned out to be a very attentive listener as Anne told him all she dared about her adventures with Angel. She had managed to ignore the time she spent with Meenotuk and the dismal existence she had led during her life there. She made do with starting the tale the day she had been offered to Angel. Though with many of the details changed, to protect the innocent.  
  
She told him about the firm, giving him some vague idea of its size and set up. She described the team and the people she had become close to in her short time there. Though she somehow got around the fact that Lorne was a green, horned demon from another dimension.  
  
It turned out to be no easy task, trying to give Rob enough information to understand why she felt the way she did, without letting slip that the L.A. he lived in wasn't the L.A. he thought it was. It felt good to confide in someone. Revealing her innermost feelings verbally was still new to her and the sensation had an alarmingly cleansing effect. It took much longer than she had anticipated and by the time it was all told she was mentally exhausted.  
  
"He offered me everything I'd ever wanted and I repaid him by getting him killed." Her last word was a whisper. It seemed to Rob that she couldn't bring herself to say it too loudly for fear of having to confront her demons.  
  
"This guy, Angel. That's not his real name is it?" Rob enquired doubtfully while ravenously pouring over their late lunch.  
  
"Yes and no." She answered truthfully, wiping an errant tear from her cheek.  
  
"Mm, right. You were in love with him." Rob's remark was voiced as a statement of fact, there appeared to be no doubt about it in his mind.  
  
"No, I don't think so. I don't think I've ever been in love." She toyed with her food, nudging the salad around the plate with her fork.  
  
"Okay, let's analyse the facts shall we, and try to stay with me here. You dream about the guy on a regular basis." Anne nodded without comment.  
  
"You admit you were willing to die for him, almost did." She nodded again, dropping her head and staring at her plate full of untouched food.  
  
"And you're carrying around all this guilt about his death." Her head shot up and she silently pleaded with him to stop.  
  
"Why did you have to tell him?" She asked herself, cursing her weakness.  
  
"Babe, if that's not love, I don't know what is." He popped a grape into his mouth with gleeful satisfaction then frowned when he noted Anne's distraught expression. He rose quickly from his side of the table and moved to her side placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. "I didn't mean to make things worse." He confided, placing his forehead gently on her own.  
  
"Things can't be any worse." She patted his hand gently and gave him a weak smile. "Do you really think I loved him?"  
  
"No sweetie, I think you still do."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Rathlyn paced the anti-chamber like a caged animal. His audience with King Myor had not gone according to plan.  
  
He had been filled with exuberant satisfaction at the progress they had been making in their search for the key. After months of fruitless searching and several disappointments they had finally located the key they desired.  
  
He fell into the memory of his disastrous encounter with the Sovereign.  
  
"Is this to be as the other was?" The ancient monarch croaked, his intense scowl made more obvious by the mans deeply seamed and wrinkled skin.  
  
"No, Your Majesty. My men are certain this is the one we have been in search of."  
  
"You and your men were certain the key located in the place named England was the only one capable of breaching the gateway. Why are you now returning to me with another?"  
  
"The key we previously located is no longer endowed with the level power we require my lord." Rathlyn despised the grovelling quality his voice had adopted. It sounded too much like Snort to his own ears.  
  
"Restrain your flapping tongue, Rathlyn." The King growled and shifted uncomfortably in the massive throne on which he sat. "Time is short, I am dying and I will not see my people in the hands of Quintarh, even if it would be from the realm of the ancients."  
  
"Now we have found her, majesty, there will be no further delays. I will bring her to you personally." Rathlyn's voice regained its customary gruff defiance.  
  
"Is she as the legend predicted?" The frail old man enquired, losing much of his previous spirit. This discourse was taking its toll.  
  
"She has the appearance of a human female, sire." Rathlyn informed him. "But she has the eyes the legend foretold."  
  
"And its eyes will see more of the world than can be viewed from the highest of the great mountains." The King recited the legend, his own rheumy eyes clouding.  
  
"Yes my lord." The King turned, his vision clearing and glared at Rathlyn with a vicious passion.  
  
"Do not fail me Supreme Rathlyn or my final act as King of this land will be to eat your black heart." The mans words froze the warrior with their cold truth.  
  
"I will not fail you my King." Rathlyn spoke the oath with grim, terrible determination.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You are coming out with us, I'm not taking no for an answer." Rob was rummaging in her closet for something suitable to wear. He was throwing outfits over his head, which Jeff was catching, examining them, and then putting them to one side with a disgusted expression.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere." She stated boldly, collecting the discarded items and trying to put them back where they had come from. She had been able to resist Rob and his insistence that she socialise, but he was becoming more and more difficult to put off.  
  
"Jeff, tell her." Rob looked to his boyfriend for some assistance.  
  
"You're too pretty stay cooped up in here all the time, anyway Rob and I need someone to chaperone us." Jeff tried massaging her ego then recalled that kind of stuff didn't work on her, so he appealed to her helpful side.  
  
"A chaperone?" She didn't understand.  
  
"Someone to keep us out of mischief." Jeff explained further.  
  
"How much mischief could you two get up to?" She shook her head and looked at Jeff innocently.  
  
"Oh, honey, if you need me to tell you that, we're in more trouble than I thought."  
  
"I don't want to go out. I'm happy here, and I have work to do." She looked from one man to the other, trying to convince them.  
  
"Did you miss the part where I said I wasn't taking no for an answer?" Rob quipped flashing her his best smile.  
  
"No, but, I. Please Rob, don't make me do this." Her shoulders slumped in defeat, she knew the battle was all but over, she had been reduced to pleading.  
  
"It'll be good for you to get out, see other people. God forbid, maybe even have a good time." Rob left the decimated closet behind and walked over to Anne, putting his hand on her knee.  
  
"Besides, I'd really like you to come." It was his last resort, the girl didn't seem capable of resisting when someone asked her for a favour.  
  
"That's not fair." She sighed and put her hand on top of his. "Okay, but I'm not staying all night."  
  
"Fine, we can work on that later." Rob grinned and turned to Jeff. "Did you find anything in that pile?"  
  
"Nothing remotely suitable?" He shook his head making loud tutting noises. "When did you last go shopping?" He asked Anne.  
  
"I haven't been shopping, Sylvia gave me that stuff." She replied.  
  
"That figures, it'd look great on Sylvia, but not on you. Rob lift her up, I need to see what size she is." Rob sneaked up behind her and eased his hands under her arms, lifting her effortlessly out her chair.  
  
"You've lost more weight." He spoke into her ear.  
  
"I don't do it on purpose." She commented. The sweatpants she had on were at least one size too big and Rob's cut-off tee-shirt did little to disguise her slight frame.  
  
"You'd blow away in a high wind." He answered her with a scowl in his voice.  
  
"Sounds like an adventure, would that get me out of this?" She kidded as he put her back in her chair. Her spine gave a loud crack and she winced, twisting with the spasm.  
  
"Are you okay, did I hurt you?" Rob was squeezing her shoulder eyeing her with a worried expression etched on his handsome face.  
  
"I'm fine, it does that sometimes. That shoulder's still attached you know."  
  
"Sorry." He released his hold on her but continued to watch her closely.  
  
"Don't worry, I'm still in one piece, well, you know what I mean." She attempted to convince him she was okay.  
  
"I think a shopping trip is in order." Jeff interrupted.  
  
"I can't afford to go shopping." She informed him. "Why don't we just forget the whole thing?"  
  
"No, we managed to get you to accept our invitation, we are not backing out now." Rob turned to Jeff, "André owes me, do you think we could find something at his boutique?"  
  
"I'm sure we could pick something up. Do you think little miss antisocial would come with us?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I don't believe you two, it's like I'm not even here."  
  
"Did you hear something, Rob?"  
  
"Nope. Now hurry up before she gets mad."  
  
"You can't tell me that tiny little angel has a temper?" Jeff scoffed and eyed Rob curiously.  
  
"Temper, no, but someone certainly taught her how to brood." The couple walked out arm in arm ignoring Anne's continued protestations completely. 


	5. Chapter Five

Authors Note: I feel like I'm losing some of you. If you think there is something I should be doing (besides giving up) please let me know. I've got lots more and I will finish regardless, if only to satisfy Celtic Cat, Imzadi (both of whom I thank for their continued support) and myself, but if there are others out there please give me your opinion. I really do want to know what you think, good or bad. Thanks for reading. JAA.  
  


* * *

  
Spike slouched on a high stool at the fifth dingy bar of his circuit, playing with his empty shot glass. He was making it spin on the water- ringed surface and listening to the rock music from the juke-box.  
  
He was pretty well oiled, having consumed a good amount of jet fuel during his fact-finding mission for the great ponce and eminent poofter. Spike didn't recognise the song playing, but he thought it sounded okay. Would have sounded even better if not for the accompaniment. A skinny, acne faced barman was screeching a the top of his lungs and playing air guitar. Spike wondered what Kermit the demon would say if he could hear him.  
  
"Probably thinks he looks like Van Halen." Spike muttered, nodding toward the barman and then rolling his eyes to his pasty white comrade.  
  
"Van who?" The loose skinned, bald demon at his side displayed an expression Spike could only assume was incomprehension.  
  
"Forget it." He shook his head and grimaced at the stench that rose from demon. He cursed Angel for making him do this and swore to give the git a piece of his mind when he got back to the office. He waved to attract the still gyrating barman's attention then motioned for another round of drinks, hoping the raw alcohol would disguise the foul odour the pathetic looking demon was generating.  
  
"Thanks for the drink. Usually no-one wants to sit with me." The demon mumbled after the barman moved back to the opposite end of the bar and recommenced his dying swan act. "I hate drinking on my own, makes me look pathetic."  
  
"Nah." Spike shook his head even though the demon had voiced exactly what he had been thinking. "You looked like you could use another, that's all. Whatcha you doing here, drinking at this time of the day anyway?" Spike asked conversationally.  
  
"Bad day." The demon replied, sipping his drink then rolling the glass between his clawed hands. "My boss is on my back because I'm not bringing in enough new business." By the size of the large hump bulging under the demons jacket, Spike guessed his boss must have been on his back often.  
  
"Bosses, nothing but wankers if you ask me. What business you in?" Spike was contemplating all the ways he was going to make Angel pay for forcing him to sit through over a dozen hopeless sob stories from semi-drunk creatures in dingy bars across the city.  
  
"Male grooming products." The demon drained the rest of his drink and returned the glass to the bar.  
  
"No kidding." Spike attempted to hide his amusement, the irony was screaming for a scathing comeback but he was out for information, not a fight. Not that it appeared this dejected specimen was likely to have a clue what Myoran's were doing in LA. Unless they were looking for a good moisturiser or some poof juice.  
  
"What about you?" This time it was the demons turn to hail the barman for a refill.  
  
"Trying to keep out of the way for a bit. Had a bit of a run in with a Myoran, he's still hanging around looking to finish the job. You seen any of them around?" He had been asking the same question most of the afternoon. Everyone he had asked so far had told him the same thing. "Seen them, yes. Know what they're up too, No."  
  
"Yeah, a couple, the other day. Tried to sell one of them shampoo."  
  
"I bet that wasn't what he was looking for." Spike smirked trying to imagine his slimy skinned friend approaching a Myoran with a bottle of head and shoulders.  
  
"You could say that. Almost took my freakin head off, then asked if I had seen the key. I've seen lots of keys, what the hell was that supposed to mean? He got all pushy and started yelling at me..." The demon continued to prattle on about his lousy sales technique, but Spike had stopped listening. The mention of a key was enough to make his already cool blood run a few degrees colder.  
  
"The key? Did you say he asked about "the key"?" Spike interrupted the demons chatter. It could tell by the look on Spike's face he was serious about something.  
  
"Yeah. What's the big deal?"  
  
"The key is." Spike pulled some crumpled bills from his pocket and threw them on the bar then stumbled toward the door.  
  


* * *

  
He staggered into Angel's office without knocking and strode halfway to the desk before he noticed the room was empty.  
  
Harmony had followed him and was standing in the doorway with a smirk on her face plastic surgery wouldn't shift. "If you had asked I would have told you he wasn't here." She lilted and returned to her desk.  
  
"Where is he?" Spike growled, not in the mood to be held up by another of Harmony's pointless bitching sessions.  
  
"In a conference." She replied giving as little away as possible.  
  
"Is he still in the bloody building, and I'd watch how you answer this one, tart." Spike glared at her and waited.  
  
"Is that some kind of English insult, Blondie Bear? I wish you'd stick to American, I'm not bi-lingual you know." She huffed and lifted some papers from her diary running an expertly lacquered magenta fingernail down the page. "He's with Wesley and Gunn, in the boardroom. They're speaking with a couple of senators. Spike they don't want to be disturbed....Spike." She hoped he had heard the last part of her reply but she doubted it would make any difference.  
  
He pounded down the corridor his vodka marinated mind juggling all the things he wanted to say. He stood in front of the boardroom door and fidgeted. It was an odd sight, seeing Spike looking uncertain.  
  
"Oh, bugger this." He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting to be hailed.  
  
Angel was bored and what was worse was than that, he was showing it. He hadn't started yawning, yet, but he was close. Politicians were the worlds worst for droning on and on. Insisting upon labouring over each point as though afraid that one word out of place could cause mass genocide. The fact that they were discussing something that could cause just that didn't make the experience any more pleasurable.  
  
"Sorry to inrerupt, Angel, I need a word." Spike did his best to look businesslike but the 15 or so neat Russian shots he had consumed pretty much negated any attempt he made. He swayed slightly then his eyes fell on Angel, at least one of the Angel's out of the three Spike could see swimming through the sea of alcohol.  
  
He caught the smirk of amusement on Gunn's face, then noted the other less approving glares from Angel and Wesley. The only saving grace being, Angel looked about ready to fall asleep.  
  
"Oh, yeah, right. Em, excuse me gentlemen, this is very important, I'm sure Wesley and Charles can finish things up here." Angel shot out of his chair and shook hands with the two senators before striding confidently to the exit. He took hold of Spike's arm in the process and half dragged, half guided him out of the room.  
  
"You're drunk." He seethed through gritted teeth when the door closed behind him.  
  
"Who, me? Not while I'm on duty, no sir." Spike mimed a salute and sniggered at Angel's look of utter contempt. "Of course I'm bloody drunk, I spent the best part of the day in the pub. At your orders, mine Furher." He tried to click his heels together but only managed to trip himself up.  
  
"Tell me you didn't drive the car in that state." Angel was marching back toward his office, still dragging Spike at his side.  
  
"Nah, I flew home. What do you think? God you ask some stupid questions when I'm drunk." Spike staggered and knocked over a large ficus. "Oops, sorry bout that."  
  
"Get in." Angel pushed the drunken vampire with all his considerable strength into his office and watched as Spike performed a graceless pirouette then fell onto the sofa.  
  
"What did you find out that was so important you felt the need to barge into my meeting in that state? Did you find out what the Myoran's are after?"  
  
"Might have. What's it worth, gay boy." Spike grinned with drunken good humour.  
  
"I'll just fire your ass instead of staking you where you sit." Angel shot back, glaring at the inebriated figure and vowing vengeance.  
  
"You haven't got the balls, pansy poof arse." Spike broke into juvenile sniggering again then he finally remembered what it was he had to tell Angel and sobered. "Oh, crap." He pressed the heal of his hand to his spinning head and tried to put all the pieces together. "Those big, ugly brutes. The Myor.."  
  
"Myoran's. Jeez, Spike get a grip. What about them?" Angel poured some blood into a mug and handed it to Spike hoping it would help sober him up.  
  
"They're looking for a key. A key, Angel, like Dawn's a key. I think Dawn's in town and they're after her." Spike sat forward and regretted moving when the room began spinning around him.  
  
"What makes you think its Dawn?" Angel sighed and tried to think of a reasonable alternative.  
  
"She's the only sodding key I've heard of. You got a better suggestion? Didn't think so." Spike spat then drained the mug.  
  
"I guess that means I have to call Buffy?" There were signs of regret, apprehension, and excitement written on Angel's face. In his current state, Spike couldn't decide which was the more dominant.  
  


* * *

  
Angel held the phone to his ear and waited, drumming the fingers of his free hand on his desk. He wasn't a patient man and the situation made him even more on edge than usual. He shifted in his seat knowing he was fidgeting and that everyone else in the room could see how uncomfortable he was. The audience only made him more tense.  
  
"Mr Giles, it's someone asking for Buffy, they said its long distance, from the United States." Angel heard the young girl's voice repeat what the operator had told her.  
  
"I'll take it in my office, thank you, Stacey." Giles, ever the gentleman. The sound of his voice brought back memories. "Good Morning, how can I help you?"  
  
"Giles, its Angel." Angel thought he could feel the temperature drop by degrees.  
  
"What do you want?" Giles' tone was clipped. Angel could imagine him removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose the way he always seemed to when he was irritated. The man was too well mannered to actually be rude, but it was a fine line.  
  
"We've come by some information and we think it may involve Dawn. I need to know if she's in L.A.?" There was no point in dragging out the conversation, it was tough enough already.  
  
"Angel, forgive me if I don't feel any obligation to enlighten you with the whereabouts of either Dawn or Buffy." Then again, Angel thought, maybe he wasn't too much a gentleman to be rude.  
  
"I don't need to know where they are, unless they're here?" Angel held his temper in check by pure will.  
  
"They are not in the United States." Giles informed him and Angel relaxed slightly. "What exactly did this information have to do with Dawn?" The watcher asked gravely.  
  
"There's a contingent of Myoran warriors in town, they're looking for a key. We thought, I thought maybe it was Dawn." Now it was Angel's turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. If the Myoran's had been looking for Dawn it would have made his job much easier.  
  
"The creation of a key is a rather rare occurrence, they are generally produced for a specific purpose. Someone who goes to the extreme lengths to fashion such an item wouldn't be in the habit of letting it wander about freely. Unless they are very careless or very stupid." Giles considered. Like Wesley, he seemed incapable of switching off his research chip.  
  
"That's what we figured." Angel replied, "I just thought if Dawn was in town we could get the drop on the Myoran's."  
  
"By using her a bait? Your methods were always questionable, Angel. I knew you had taken over at Wolfram & Hart, I didn't think you had stooped to using their methods too."  
  
"I'd didn't say I would use her bait. This firm is under my management not the other way around."  
  
"And you expect me to believe that?" Giles scoffed.  
  
"Believe what you like." The line went dead and Angel closed his eyes, gripping the receiver hard enough to crack it.  
  
"Are they here?" Spike enquired gulping down his eighth coffee.  
  
"No." Angel said nothing more, but Spike smiled, content in the knowledge that Dawn was safely out of the reach of the warriors.  
  
"Where does that leave us?" Wesley looked at Angel for an answer, one he didn't have. He shrugged and laced his fingers together over his desk still fuming from his conversation with Giles.  
  
"We're back to being bloody clueless, Percy. That's where we are." Spike put in matter of factly.  
  
"Not quite, we just have to find a way to locate the key before they do. If we're not too late already." Fred looked around the room then stood up. "I'll have my people work on it." She smiled sweetly and kissed Wesley on the cheek before leaving the rest of them to their pondering.  
  
"You're blushing, watcher." Spike muttered.  
  


* * *

  
Angel closed the door to his apartment and made his way through the dark lounge to the bedroom unbuttoning his shirt as he went. It had been a long and exhausting day and all he wanted was a hot shower, some blood and one night of dreamless sleep.  
  
All the talk of key's and Dawn and Buffy had taken an emotional toll on him, more than he would admit to. He wondered if his relationship with Buffy would ever be over? Even when she was thousands of miles away she still had a way of affecting his life. Or was that just him still letting her affect his life?  
  
"Quit while you're behind, Angel." His words echoed in the tiled bathroom as he adjusted the temperature controls on the shower. He returned his thoughts to the more important issue of exactly who the Myoran's were looking for.  
  
Fred had her team working on some kind of key detector that she said worked on the same principal as an EMF meter but with a larger range. Since he didn't know how an EMF meter worked in the first place he figured he'd just wait till she was finished and hope she knew what she was doing.  
  
Wesley had gone off saying he had an idea and would look into it and get back to him.  
  
Gunn was looking into the Myoran's to see if they had any property in the city for a possibility on where they would be holed up if they had found the key already.  
  
Spike, he had disappeared pretty swiftly after Angel had called Buffy. Probably gone home to sleep off the remains of the vodka and keep out of his way if he had any sense.  
  
Angel rubbed himself dry with one of the thick white fluffy towels and padded barefoot into the kitchen to warm some blood. He took it back to his bedroom window and stared out into the inky blackness at the twinkling lights of the city below. So many people, so much violence, despair, grief, love, lust, envy, greed and every other emotion and sin known to man or demon or beast.  
  
"I'm too tired to fix everything tonight." He muttered and set the cup down beside his bed. He pulled the cover over him and within moments was fast asleep.  
  


* * *

  
It was black as night and Angel blinked to help his eyes adjust to the absolute lack of light. There was no sound except a rhythmic fluttering beat coming from directly in front of him.  
  
There was a blinding flash as a spot light flooded the stage facing him with its purple white brilliance.  
  
Ariane stood alone, perfectly still, as if waiting for a cue. She was still wearing the white dress, the one she had been wearing the last time he saw her. The one she had been wearing the night she was killed. She didn't move, didn't blink, she didn't even seem to be breathing. If not for the faint but constant beat of her heart Angel would have thought she was a ghost.  
  
"Ari." He whispered her name and took a step toward her.  
  
"Forgive..." The soft sound of her voice seemed to come from within him. Her pretty mouth pursed to continue speaking when the shots were fired. Every one hitting the same marks he had witnessed the night of the party. She collapsed onto the stage and this time he ran to her, gathering her frail body in his arms and holding her tightly. Her huge eyes looked up at him with their now familiar despair as she repeated the single word.  
  
"Forgive..." 


	6. Chapter Six

CelticCat: German, Sumerian, and Etruscan. Are there any languages you don't speak, or am I confusing you with someone else?  
  
Imzadi: I'm building up to it. I'm not boring you am I?  
  
Those who remain nameless: I've had 170 or so hits on this story since I posted Chapter five and they aren't all from those mentioned above. Thanks for reading, but how about you give me some advice on how you think this is going? I'm trying to improve but without your input it's impossible.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel blinked and squinted at the bright sunlight which flooded his room, he kicked the sheet from his legs and slipped out of the sleep crumpled bed. The sun was in the wrong place, it shouldn't be that high. He glanced at the clock and cursed under his breath as he padded into the bathroom, he had overslept it was after 10.00.  
  
He stepped into the shower and gave himself a swift and invigorating blast of cool, almost cold water. He stood with his arms resting at his sides, letting the sharp needle like spray jets wake up his mind as well as his sluggish body.  
  
The ghost image of Ariane from his dream was lingering in his mind like the fond memory of a lovers caress. Why was she asking for forgiveness from him? It was more likely his own subconscious projecting his need for absolution onto her. He couldn't shake the nagging question of why he dreamt of her so often. After all this time and out of all the people who had died either by his hand or as part of his quest, why was she so hard to forget?  
  
He turned his face full into the strong spray, hoping the cleansing water would wash the dream out of his head. "Focus on finding the key." He thought to himself, attempting to replace one notion for another. Still her image remained as she lay dying in his arms.  
  
He shook his head in frustration as he turned off the water and grasped for a towel. "Let the damned thing go and get back to work." He cursed under his breath.  
  
He couldn't understand why no one had called him. Someone was usually on the phone if he was a couple of minutes late getting to the office.  
  
He dressed quickly and stepped into his private elevator which descended to his office. He placed one foot beyond the sliding door to be faced by the beautiful but unexpected face of Cordelia.  
  
"Morning, sleepy head." She smiled warmly and rose from his chair.  
  
"Why didn't anyone wake me?" He grumbled and began sifting through the mail on his desk.  
  
"I told them no to, that's why. I thought you could use the rest, you seemed tired." Tired wasn't the word she wanted to use but she didn't see the point in starting a conversation she couldn't finish. "Now you're here I can get back to my job." She picked up her purse and made toward the door. Before she could open it her purse started ringing.  
  
"Damn it." She pulled some Kleenex, a lipstick, gum, and a bottle of scent from her deceptively small purse before she came out with the still chiming phone. "What?" She yelled when she finally flipped it open.  
  
"Oh, it's you." Her tone softened and Angel turned his back on her and did his best to make himself look occupied. "Sure, for lunch. I'll meet you in the lobby at noon. Blake, it'll have to be quick I have some stuff to do this afternoon." She was almost whispering into the mouth piece and Angel shook his head and smiled.  
  
For all his jealousy that he wasn't the one making her happy, it was great to see her smile. He heard her say goodbye and he coughed just to let her know he was still in the room.  
  
"Making plans for lunch? I couldn't help, overhearing I mean." He murmured, flushing a pale pink. "I hope he's taking you somewhere nice."  
  
"What makes you think it was a he?" She was as embarrassed as he was and she made a production of replacing the contents of her purse instead of looking at him.  
  
"I don't know many women called Blake." He commented, this was a conversation they should have had weeks ago.  
  
"Okay." She drew the word out, trying to think of something else to say.  
  
"Blake Anderson, works in interdimensional property. Graduated from Harvard fifth in his class, sends ten percent of his salary to his mother in Ohio and plays on the company softball team. He sounds like an all round nice guy."  
  
"He is." Those two small words seemed filled with regret and hope.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It seemed the next time Angel's head rose from his desk it was well after lunch time. He rubbed his face and picked up his mug noticing as he was about to drink from it that it was empty.  
  
"Harmony, any chance of a drink?" Angel released the intercom button and returned his attention to the file he had been reading.  
  
Seconds later the door opened and Harmony, wearing a lime green mini dress and four inch heels, minced to his desk and deposited his mug of blood with a perfunctory smile.  
  
"Anything else?" She enquired before making her way back to the door.  
  
"What's on the books this afternoon?" He wasn't in the mood for anything heavy, lack of action was taking its toll. "Desk jockey atrophy", Fred had called it.  
  
"Nothing, you're four thirty cancelled, so you're free for the afternoon. If you're going somewhere does that mean I can take the rest of the day off?" She beamed at him in anticipation.  
  
"No." He beamed right back with false sincerity, sometimes being boss was fun.  
  
"Typical." She sulked as she closed the door behind her.  
  
Angel closed the folder and pushed his chair back from his desk, stretching his arms over his head and popping his shoulders. He was in the process of getting up when his door flew open and Spike strode in looking stormy. Angel could hear Harmony outside protesting at Spikes intrusion.  
  
"Oh, shut up woman." He yelled, slamming the door and cutting her off in mid-flow.  
  
"Something I can do for you, Spike?" Angel sighed, he didn't even seem to have the energy to be angry with him today.  
  
"I need a car." He stood in front of Angel's desk with his hands deep in his pockets and waited.  
  
"I told you before, if you can't afford to buy one on what we pay you then that's tough."  
  
"I need to borrow a car and those nazis you have in the garage won't let me take one. So you have two options, sort it out with them or I boost one of yours and make sure to wreck it while I'm out." Spike smirked and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.  
  
"What do you need it for?"  
  
"I'm investigating something for Gunn, I want to tail someone. Am I going to have to justify my every move to you? If that's the way it is you know where you can shove it."  
  
"You can take one of the pool cars." Angel lifted his telephone and dialled the transport division.  
  
"Is that it? No arguments, no wise cracks? What happened, Angel, someone pick you up on your people skills."  
  
"Do you want the car, or do you want me to answer that?" He asked removing the phone from his ear and staring squarely at Spike.  
  
"It better not be some clapped out rust bucket." He muttered, slouching out of the door.  
  
When Spike reached the garage he noticed a car sitting close to the elevators. New, tinted windows, not too shabby. "Can't be that one then." He thought just as an attendant walked over to him with the keys in his outstretched hand.  
  
"You must be Spike." The man grinned, "Boss said you needed something with the necro option."  
  
"Yeah? Ta." Spike took the keys and wondered what had blew up the poof's dress and made him so damned accommodating all of a sudden.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Spike spent the next few hours sitting, slumped in the car outside of the home of Paul Nardino. The same address that he had given to Gunn earlier that week. Two guys had driven in to the walled estate over an hour ago, one of them leaving shortly after, but since then there had been no movement what so ever. He was starting to get board when he noticed a car off to his left, which had been there since he arrived. He could see someone slouched in almost the same position as he was himself. The figure sat up, presumably to find a more comfortable position and to his astonishment it was Wesley.  
  
The sun was setting but not enough for it to be advisable for him to take a wander, so he settled for calling the ex-watchers cell phone.  
  
"Wyndam-Pryce." Wesley answered the vibrating cell with crisp and businesslike politeness.  
  
"All right, Percy?" Spike chuckled, he always liked the very well-mannered way Wes did things, like insisting on announcing himself on the phone.  
  
"What do you want, Spike." Wesley sighed, his voice was filled with frustration.  
  
"Just thought you looked bored." Spike countered.  
  
"Looked? Oh, for pities sake, that's you in the black .....oh isn't this just wonderful." Wesley was having a very restrained and British fit in the car, Spike watched and chortled to himself as Wes climbed out and strode over to where he was waiting.  
  
"What in God's name are you doing here." Wesley spat at him as the window descended. "Are you following me?"  
  
"Why would I want to do that?" Spike grumbled, just as put out by Wesley's presence as the other man. "Have you seen her yet?"  
  
"Who?" Wesley asked hanging on to the grim hope that they were there for different reasons.  
  
"Ariane, you pillock, who do you think?" Wesley disguised his disappointment with a shake of his head.  
  
"I haven't seen anyone. I was toying with the idea of knocking on the door and asking if she was at home."  
  
"Oh yeah, good plan. scuse me guv'nor but can Ariane come out to play?" Spike shot the man an unconvinced look.  
  
"If you have a better suggestion, I'd dearly love to hear it?" Wes expressed with barely disguised scorn.  
  
Spike shrugged, he had planned to just hang around outside until Ari made an appearance. "We'll have to get our story straight." He muttered and directed his eyes elsewhere as he often did when he was sulking. "Otherwise they're bound to think there's something suss about us."  
  
"About you perhaps." Wesley answered curtly. "We could simply say we're relatives."  
  
"You don't think the lack of family resemblance could be an issue?" Spike attempted to contain his frustration.  
  
As they were discussing their options Rob and Ari pulled out of the driveway in a cab, heading in the opposite direction from where Spike and Wesley were parked. Spike started the engine while Wesley jumped into the car and they raced after them.  
  
"Don't get too close, they'll spot us." Wesley warned Spike, bouncing like a four year old filled with excitement in the passenger seat.  
  
"I don't think they're looking for anyone to be following them, but thanks for the advice, I'm sooo not used to stalking." Spike drawled with cutting sarcasm.  
  
They followed the cab until it halted in front of a night club called Flamers where they watched eagerly as Rob got out of the car and strolled around to open the door for Ari.  
  
"Who's prince flipping charming, do you think?" Spike asked indicating the handsome, athletic figure of Rob, looking very dashing in a loose, white, open neck shirt and snug fitting black Wranglers. He had not intended his words to sound so resentful.  
  
"Jealous, Spike?" Wes enquired, unable to keep the mirth from his own voice.  
  
"Shove it, four eyes." Spike retorted. They drove off to find a parking spot before Ari got out of the car.  
  
Wesley and Spike entered Flamers, which was bursting at the seams. They scanned the throng for Ari and her date, splitting up and taking different routes around the packed venue. Spike approached the bar, shoved his way to the front and ordered two club sodas from a very polite barman. He sipped his drink and winced, how people could stand to drink the stuff amazed him but he had consumed enough alcohol over the last few days. He checked down the length of the bar and thought it odd that there seemed to be very few guy/girl couples drinking there. It took only seconds for the obvious explanation to dawn on him. He picked up Wesley's drink and stormed back to him looking seriously cheesed off.  
  
"She's over there." Wes nodded toward a small group sitting at a table across the room, not far from the entrance. "What's wrong with you?" He asked when he noticed Spikes expression.  
  
"Didn't you notice the supreme lack of fanciable skirt in here?" He asked the question already aware that Wes was oblivious to their whereabouts. "It's wall to wall sensible shoes." He pointed out.  
  
"Sorry?" Wes wasn't following and Spike wasn't in the least bit surprised.  
  
"We're in a bloody gay bar." Spike bellowed, loudly enough to attract assorted scowls and frowns from several people standing close by.  
  
Wesley gave the room a more serious inspection and noticed Spike was right, the dance floor was filled with same sex couples dancing and flirting with each other.  
  
"Pardon me but I noticed you when you came in and I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since. Would you care to dance?" A very pretty, dark haired man stood in front of Spike. His eyes, complete with emerald green tinted contact lenses, roamed all over Spike as though devouring him.  
  
"On yer bike, Charlie, I'm spoken for." He shot, giving the man a disgusted look and pointed toward Wesley nervously.  
  
"Well, you were worth a try." He lilted as he stuck a card between the buttons of Spike's shirt. "If you ever feel like a change, look me up." Spike removed the card and shuddered.  
  
"Homophobe." Wes whispered.  
  
"Damn right, bloody queers give me the willies. Eh, that didn't come out right." Spike muttered shaking his head as Wesley stifled a snigger.  
  
"So we found her, what do we do now?" Spike asked, swiftly changing the subject.  
  
"I'm not sure." Wesley pondered the situation as Spike turned his back on the dance floor and leaned on the balustrade he and Wes were standing beside.  
  
He watched Ari and the two men chatting and wondered if what he felt was real happiness at seeing her or if it was just another one of her mind tricks. His feelings were tempered by anger and frustration when he considered the time he had spent dwelling on her death. All the one sided conversations he had over the past eight months began rebounding around in his head like manic pinball's.  
  
Ariane had a weird feeling of being watched. There was nothing sinister in it, she just felt she was being observed. She put it down to her complete lack of social experience, but she couldn't help herself from scanning the crowded bar to see if she caught anyone looking at her, or if she saw anyone she recognised. Not that that was exactly likely due to the fact that the only gay people she knew were sitting opposite her. Anyone else she knew wouldn't have looked for her in a place like this, if they looked for her at all.  
  
"Are we boring you?" Rob asked when he noticed her gazing at the throng.  
  
"No, not at all, I'm sorry." She stumbled over her words, nerves and tension getting the better of her..  
  
"This isn't quite your scene, is it sweetie?" Jeff smiled.  
  
"Annie's still trying to find her scene." Rob answered for her. "For all we know she could be "super-gay girl".  
  
"I believe she's taller than I am." Ari replied with a good natured wink over the rim of her glass, she and Rob had discussed her sexuality before.  
  
"Are you sure you don't want something stronger than that?" Jeff pointed to her diet soda and wrinkled his nose with distaste.  
  
"No thanks, I'm driving." Jeff didn't know her well enough to recognise her attempt at humour so he looked to Rob for confirmation. While his head was turned he noticed Spike staring at them.  
  
"Do you know any drop dead gorgeous, peroxide blondes?" He raised an eyebrow in Rob's direction, wondering if his new beau had a past that he hadn't shared.  
  
"Not that I can think of, I'm not into blondes as a rule." He followed the direction of Jeff's stare and spotted Spike. "Though for him I think I could make an exception."  
  
"Shift your arse, Percy, we've been rumbled." Spike was off his mark before the last word had passed his lips with Wesley scampering along behind moving on pure instinct.  
  
Ariane's eyes shot to the area Jeff and Rob were staring at, her heart hammering in her chest before she could think sensibly. She saw no one she recognised, but she also saw no blonde men in the vicinity. It couldn't be Spike, could it? What would he be doing in a place like this, unless he was following her?  
  
"Don't be stupid." She scolded herself. "Why would he bother, anyway, he's a spirit." It was a good argument but she couldn't shake the notion that things were changing. Perhaps it was the dreams, perhaps it was wishful thinking.  
  
"Did she see us?" Wesley gasped as they snuck through the door on the opposite side from where the trio sat.  
  
"I'm not sure, but the blokes she's with did. What if she does a runner?" Spike asked when they were outside.  
  
"She's not going anywhere." Wesley replied and for once Spike didn't feel like arguing.  
  
"Do we tell Angel?" It was a good question.  
  
"Not yet." Wesley was far from convinced it was the right thing to do, but he was sure it couldn't do any harm to wait one more day.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Supreme Rathlyn." Snort stood shivering and wondered if he was going to keep his head.  
  
"What is it?" Rathlyn snarled and took another mammoth bite from the charred and dripping boars leg he held in his huge fist.  
  
"There has been another development with the key." When the warrior grunted, Snort continued.  
  
"She is being followed, sire."  
  
"By whom?" Rathlyn threw down the half eaten leg and glowered at Snort. The look alone enough to make the man swallow hard and curse his bad luck for being given this task.  
  
"Two men from the demon lawyers, Wolfram & Hart." He managed to squeak through his stress narrowed windpipe.  
  
"What do they want with her?" Rathlyn pondered, more to himself than the simpering man at his side. He snatched up a flagon and took three long swallows of the burning yellow fluid. He had grown very fond of the highly potent digestive acid of the Kruplar. He swiped at his dripping chin with a slick black hand and threw the empty flagon into the roaring fire.  
  
"They did not approach her, Supreme Rathlyn, they seem to be only monitoring her for the moment." Snort watched Rathlyn consume his beverage with a mixture of horror and disgust. Warriors had no manners.  
  
"Then we take her, quickly." Rathlyn snarled, his throat now raw and tingling. Finally things were moving in his preferred direction. Rathlyn was sick and tired of waiting for the right time. He was a warrior and all this inactivity was infuriating, though necessary if they were to remain anonymous. "I will instruct my men to seize her when she is alone, it would not do to have Wolfram & Hart alerted to our presence here."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Look down and left, you are one click away from making or breaking my day. Go on, I dare you. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Imzadi: I've had an idea on how to bring back your handsome prince, but it may take a couple of chapters to get there. I hope you can wait that long.  
  
Celtic Cat: You know how grateful I am for your support, but I'll say it again anyway. Thanks so much.  
  
Anonymous readers: You are a great source of mystery, I keep trying to think of new ways to encourage you to review. You may have noticed I haven't done so well with that one. Still you deserve acknowledgement so a big Ta for me to you, who ever you are.  
  
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"Way to go Spike-a-lucious, you really found her?" Lorne gushed and poured a frothy citrus coloured liquid from his cocktail shaker over crushed ice. He added a twist of lemon for garnish with an ostentatious flourish of his green hand. He thought the colour of the creation clashed perfectly with his scarlet suit.  
  
"Course I found her, what did you expect? Once I put my mind to it, nothing gets in my way." Spike drawled sticking out his chest with haughty self-importance.  
  
"All that and modest too." Lorne chided, tipping his glass toward Spike in salute. "Don't keep me in suspense you big galoot, how did our little sunbeam look?"  
  
"Not all that sunny, now you mention it. She was too bloody thin for one thing, and she looked, I don't know .... uncomfortable." He shook his head. Uncomfortable wasn't the word he was groping for but it was all he could think of.  
  
"Little sparky didn't glow?" Lorne was a little disappointed as he sank into his chair.  
  
"Not even a twinkle, mate. Maybe she can't do it anymore." The notion that Ari may not be the same as she had been before struck him and he scratched his head in puzzlement.  
  
"When are we going to tell the great and powerful B'Oz? I think I'll schedule a sick day. I wouldn't like to be at ground zero when that Angel- bomb goes off."  
  
"Percy wants to keep it hush hush for a bit. He thinks we should talk to her first and see if she's really one of the good guy's. I think he's a few virgins short of a sacrifice myself but he doesn't listen to me." Spike shrugged and stuck his finger in the cocktail shaker to taste the concoction Lorne was drinking. He screwed his face in a look of utter disgust and scraped his tongue over his teeth trying to remove the flavour. "What the hell is that?"  
  
"A sidecar, my little cocktail illiterate buddy." Lorne sipped and sighed with contentment.  
  
Spike shuddered and opened a bottle of Chiva's and took a long mouthful. He swirled it around like mouthwash then swallowed, smacking his lips loudly. "That stuff tastes like camel piss." He commented pointing at the demons half consumed beverage.  
  
"I thought it was cognac. Maybe I'll try camel piss next time."  
  
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"The thing is, Angel, em, this isn't as straight forward as it looks." Fred was scuttling around the lab picking up circuit boards and depositing them beside a frazzled technician who looked like he could use a long vacation. Come to think of it Fred didn't look too lively either.  
  
Angel glanced around the room and couldn't see anything he thought looked remotely simple. "I know I'm pushing, Fred, it's just important and..." He was searching for a way to finish his sentence when Wesley entered looking pleased with himself.  
  
"I found something." He beamed and crossed the room to plant a kiss on Fred's cheek.  
  
The watcher looked rather the worse for wear too but Angel put it down to hours of tedious searching through his tomes. He glanced away, still a little embarrassed by the open affection Wes and Fred displayed. It was great to see them happy, he just didn't see why they felt it necessary to constantly show everyone. Anyway it was like seeing your brother and sister kissing, something about it just didn't sit right.  
  
When Wesley didn't immediately break his embrace Angel shuffled around and coughed, "Found something, Wes?" He muttered reminding him he was still waiting.  
  
"What?" Wesley swallowed the guilty admission he had been about to babble. "Oh, yes, of course." He stammered when he realised Angel was referring to his research findings. Fred giggled and boosted herself onto the table to listen, swinging her shapely legs.  
  
"I was looking into the Myoran culture, their mythology more specifically. I came across a legend which speaks of a gateway between realms." Wesley had picked up a pencil like object and was idly waving it around. Fred focused on the item nervously and snatched it from his hand the second he came close enough to her.  
  
"That's a faulty trigger for an incendiary device." She informed him handing it to a passing man in a lab coat who carried it away like nitro sweating TNT.  
  
"Can you tell us without touching anything that could bring down the building?" Angel pushed some harmless gadgets out of Wesley's reach and handed him a pen from his inside pocket. He figured that if Wes insisted on wielding something his pen would be much less likely to get any of them killed.  
  
"Where was I?" Wesley glanced at the pen in his hand then back at Angel, he appeared rather distracted.  
  
"Gateway." Angel and Fred chorused.  
  
"Yes, a gateway. Actually it seems there is a hidden portal in their dimension which gives the possessor power over time. In my opinion, King Myor is searching for the key which will open it. The legend goes on to describe a gifted being with the ability to affect its environment; I would anticipate this to be that same key. It would appear this individual must exhibit some rather precise characteristics."  
  
"Great, so we have a description. That should make things easier." Angel broke in grateful for anything he could move on.  
  
"It's not a description exactly." Wes hedged and repositioned his glasses.  
  
"So what is it, exactly?" Angel crossed his arms over his chest and waited, he should have known by now that when it came to myths, legends or prophesies they were never very clear.  
  
"More of a list of attributes, really. But they are fairly uncommon, so it should narrow our search criteria considerably." Wesley did his best to sound confident.  
  
"What you're telling me is, we have a list of qualities that were written how long ago?"  
  
"It's a fairly modern prophecy, only five hundred years, give or take."  
  
"Half a millennium ago," Angel's gaze travelled to the ceiling before returning to his dishevelled friend "And we are expected to find someone in LA who exhibits all of them?" Angel unfolded his arms and rubbed at his forehead.  
  
"The more information we have the better I can programme the locator." Fred smiled meekly and gave Wesley's shoulder a supportive squeeze.  
  
"Okay, give Fred all the details. Are you sure there were no physical descriptions, something I could look for?" Angel knew he was clutching at straws but he hated feeling powerless, useless.  
  
"If you count, 'from a world not it's own it shall come.'.....'it's eyes will cast a gaze like the second moon.' or 'it's eyes will see more of the world than can be viewed from the great mountains.'" Wesley offered apologetically. Angel shook his head and sighed.  
  
"It's an oracle." He muttered, "and it has more than one eye." He dropped his head and left.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We can't go home now, the party's just getting started." Jeff looked from Anne to Rob his eyes pleading.  
  
"'We' don't have to go anywhere." She replied. She directed her comment directly to Rob who was torn between what he saw as his duty to Anne and his desire to please Jeff.  
  
"Stay for one more hour?" He pleaded and tried his best puppy dog eyes.  
  
"I'm all partied out." She smiled weakly. It wasn't that she didn't want to stay, it was becoming impossible for her to stay. The crowded bar and the thumping music were both taking their toll on her senses. She had forgotten just how hard it was to block the thoughts of so many people at once. She could feel the pressure taking physical form behind her eyes like a devouring migraine.  
  
"I'm not letting you go home on your own." Rob replied watching as Jeff's shoulders drooped.  
  
"So you're willing to spoil Jeff's night making an needlessly noble gesture? Why don't we compromise, you can put me in a cab right outside? What could possibly happen to me in taxi between here and home?"  
  
"That's reasonable, Rob." Jeff nodded and flashed his own set of puppy dogs complete with batting eyelashes.  
  
"I'm not being given much choice am I." He sighed with a melodramatic pause, then smiled and nodded. "Okay, but just this once. Deal?"  
  
"Deal." Anne agreed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Happy anniversary." Blake smiled and handed her the carefully wrapped parcel.  
  
"Anniversary?" Cordelia looked up at him with raised eyebrows and couldn't help but smile back.  
  
"Two months today." He replied, casting his eyes to the side in an effort to hide his embarrassment. He'd never felt this way about a woman before, she made him feel like a dumb kid and a hero all at once. "Are you gonna open it?"  
  
"I didn't get you anything, I didn't even think about it." She shrugged but eyed the gold package with growing excitement.  
  
"I'm not usually prone to sudden attacks of impulsive shopping, but when I saw these I just had to buy them for you." He prompted.  
  
Unable to control her curiosity any longer Cordelia tore open the gift with all the enthusiasm of a kid a Christmas. What she was left with after the struggle with the wrapping paper was the most unexpected present she could have imagined.  
  
"Bunny slippers." She exclaimed and blinked in disbelief staring at the two pink, fluffy, grinning faces on the toes.  
  
"I thought maybe you could leave them here, so the next time you ..... you know." His warm expression dissolved to be replaced by one of disappointment. "You don't like them, it was a stupid idea."  
  
"Like them, I love them." She hugged him tenderly and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "and I'd love to keep them at your place." She whispered next to his ear. She took his hand and led him toward the bedroom, planning to give him a more intimate thank you.  
  
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"What do you mean Fred's gone home?" Angel thundered and thumped his fist on his desk top for unnecessary emphasis.  
  
"Home, it's a place where people go when they aren't working. I know the concept's a bit foreign to you." Spike smiled with all the fabricated pleasantness he could muster and threw himself on Angel's sofa.  
  
Angel glared at him, his mind too filled with fury to compose a suitable comeback.  
  
"Ooh, scary. " Spike smirked his face a study of facetious amusement. "That the best you can do, fairy?"  
  
"What are you doing here?" Angel growled.  
  
"Pissing you off by the looks of it."  
  
"I mean was there something you wanted?"  
  
"No, can't say I did want anything."  
  
"Then get the hell out of my office."  
  
"I'm waiting for the head boy." He grinned and nodded toward Wesley.  
  
"Couldn't you do that outside?" Angel sniped.  
  
"I like this couch." Spike stuck his hands behind his head and lounged.  
  
"Did Fred finish the locator device before she left?" Angel directed his question to Wesley who was fighting sleep in one of the armchairs in front of Angel's desk.  
  
"Mm. She did what she could, she left it with one of her technicians for final analysis. It should be ready in the morning." He hid a yawn behind his hand and pushed his exhausted body out of the comfortable chair. "I should be getting home myself. It's been a rather eventful day."  
  
"Eventful?" Angel couldn't recall anything happening that he would call eventful, not in comparison to the usual goings-on. In fact he had found the day pretty dull.  
  
"Percy's easily pleased." Spike shot up and attempted to cover Wesley's slip. He didn't exactly agree with the watchers reasons for keeping Ari's whereabouts a secret, but he didn't think now was the time to tackle the subject.  
  
"Must be about time for you to diddle your wendell and get some kip anyway. Need your beauty sleep and all that." He scoffed hoping his sarcasm would mask their deception.  
  
"You didn't evolve far from pond scum did you, Spike." Angel muttered stuck with a hideous mental picture he was sure would haunt him to sleep.  
  
"Save the compliments for someone who give a toss, Angel." Spike replied simultaneously flipping him off and following Wesley out of the office.  
  
Angel dropped his chin onto his fist and seethed. Fred had deserted her post, Wesley was doing the same, and Spike? God alone knew what he was up to, and God wasn't feeling much like sharing.  
  
He stood up and walked over to his refrigerator and looked inside. He huffed and closed the door without removing anything. He wasn't going to find the answer to anything in there. He wandered around the room searching for something to occupy his restless mind. Finding nothing he headed for the elevator and pushed a button.  
  
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The cab driver drummed his hands on the sheering wheel as Rob helped Anne inside and handed her some cash. He closed the door and waved goodbye as the car merged with the rest of the traffic. Even at this late hour the City of Angels was far from quiet.  
  
Anne was grateful for the relative stillness in her head. She thought back to what she and Rob had been discussing as they waited for the cab to arrive.  
  
"I'm glad you came out tonight." He had confided holding her small hand in his.  
  
"I really have enjoyed myself, I'm just not accustomed to all this." She smiled sweetly, hoping she sounded sincere. She wasn't lying exactly, more like holding back the truth. Rob didn't seem to notice, a blessing Anne was more than willing to accept.  
  
"This could be it you know." He stated vaguely. Rob sometimes wondered about the occasionally old fashioned vocabulary Anne used. It seemed to happen more often when she was tired or upset.  
  
"It?"  
  
"You know, the turning point." He still didn't seem to be making much sense to her. "This could be the start of your new life."  
  
"What do I need a new life for?" She had a suspicion of where Rob was taking the conversation and there was no point in trying to divert him.  
  
"You need to get over that guy, Angel." He looked down at her pointedly, knowing full well she wasn't as dense as she was making out.  
  
"Rob...." She looked at him warily and was about to tell him she didn't want to talk about Angel when he interrupted her.  
  
"Don't Rob me, Anne." He scolded, "You loved and lost, that doesn't mean you have to spend the rest of your life like a hermit."  
  
"I like being a hermit. I'm a very comfortable hermit" She muttered not willing to look at him.  
  
"Liar." He took hold of her chin and turned her head to look at him anyway.  
  
"Maybe so, but I'm not ready for this." She flicked her eyes at the crowd then back to Rob.  
  
"You need to move on, and the longer you spend grieving for him, the more difficult it's going to be." Anne knew Rob was saying these things with the best of intentions, but discussing Angel in such cold and distant terms was more than she could handle.  
  
"I'm never going to forget him." She replied, her tone becoming icy.  
  
"No-one's asking you to forget him, Anne. Just let him stay in the past that's all. You can't punish yourself forever just because he died and you didn't." Rob's look of earnest sympathy melted some of the ice in her heart.  
  
"I don't know if I want to live in a world without him in it." She admitted as a single tear slipped from her eye. Rob thumbed it away and cupped her cheek in his large gentle hand.  
  
"Sugar, you don't get to make that choice."  
  
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Entart Granlar sat hunched over the wheel of the vehicle they had appropriated, the seat still sticky with the drying blood of its previous occupant. He was cramped in the confines of the compact car, as were the three shadow warriors under his command.  
  
They had joined the flow of traffic two cars behind the vehicle transporting their target. The key was to be taken directly to Supreme Rathlyn who would be waiting at the threshold of their dimension. The longer Granlar spent in this den of materialism they called Los Angeles, the more he longed for Th'hesela. His home may have been ravaged by a century of war but it was still preferable to this stinking pit.  
  
His sharp beady eyes followed the cab with hawk-like single-mindedness. He was not going to let this opportunity pass him by. Granlar was a man with ambitions and this could be his only chance to make himself known. The King would look favourably upon the warrior who captured the mythical key. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Imzadi: Please note. All comments made by the characters are entirely their own, they are not the opinion of the writer. What that really means is, I've never had the pleasure to visit LA. If I did I'm sure I wouldn't think it a stinking pit. No offence intended.  
  
Celtic Cat: Vapours. They are a part of my charm, I think! I'm doing my best not to muck up this time around.  
  
Lilithangel: Hello. I'm very happy to hear you are enjoying the story so far, and thanks for taking the time to review.  
  
Okay. Okay I'll get on with it. Sorry for the wait!  
  
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Granlar waited until the cab pulled out of the bustling traffic and onto the quieter side streets before making his move. He had been trained in the tactical arts and was adept at concealment. True to say that he was far from comfortable with his current surroundings, but he would do his best to keep his teams activities as covert as possible.  
  
The lead vehicle slowed and pulled into an alley, it appeared to Granlar that the driver had taken a wrong turn somewhere. It was a fortuitous mistake for his needs and one he was going to capitalise on with great haste. Before the inept man behind the wheel could check his mirror, Granlar pulled up and halted at an angle to the front of his cab.  
  
"Hey dipshit, move your ass." The cabbie cursed, gesticulated and then remembered that he had an audience. He watched in awe struck horror as Granlar and his small squad glared at him from the other car. "Keep down Miss we may be in some trouble here." He glanced at Anne, trying to sound confident and shooting wide of the mark. The distinct tremor in his voice gave him away. This was only his second week on the job and he was far from convinced he could deal with any danger. Especially danger that took the form of four weirdo's dressed like rejects from a Startrek convention.  
  
Granlar unfolded himself from behind the steering wheel and sprinted directly for the driver of the cab. The other men, on his orders, surrounded the rear of the vehicle but did not approach the young woman inside.  
  
He pulled his massive fist back and threw it fast and hard at the side window, smashing the glass into tiny cubes and showering the stunned driver inside. The man yelled and tried to prise Granlar's huge hand from his shirt.  
  
"Open the door." He growled and pulled the driver toward what remained of the shattered window.  
  
"Hell no." The driver stammered, simultaneously bashing Granlar's arm with one hand and trying to grasp for his radio with the other. His fear increased when he noticed what he had thought was a costume was on closer inspection real.  
  
"Open the door and I will let you live, struggle and I will snap your neck." The beasts logic was cold and inescapable, his sincerity was absolute.  
  
The driver weighed up the situation. He could try to radio for help and get himself killed. He could open the door and try to save the girl in the back and get himself killed, or he could open the door and run for his life?  
  
He glanced around and saw the girl was frantically prying at the door handle herself. He had time to wonder what exactly she planned to do with three of the big ugly brutes surrounding her, when he flicked the switch controlling the doors and slid untidily onto the tarmac at the feet of the leader. He scuttled backwards on hands and heels, not trusting the leather clad monster not to attack if he took his eyes off him. When he had put what he considered to be adequate distance between himself and the warrior he gained his feet and ran for his life.  
  
The driver dispatched, Granlar turned his attention to his target, the key. She had managed to open the back door and was in the process of swinging it at Evraham, his deputy. She was terrified, that much was obvious but she was also not going to give herself up without a struggle. It was clear to all that any resistance would be met with greater strength, but she didn't seem to care.  
  
"Be calm little one, we will not harm you." He uttered the words as softly as his acid burned throat allowed.  
  
"Calm?" She though, "How on earth does he imagine I could be calm?" Still clinging to the door, she leaned too far beyond her point of balance and toppled over, landing, sprawled at the feet of two of the warriors. "You won't take me back to him alive." She gritted her teeth and steeled herself for a fight.  
  
One of the huge 'men' leaned toward her and she shrank back from him, trying to crawl out of his reach.  
  
"Evraham." Granlar barked and the soldier backed away with a guilty expression, dropping his head in supplication.  
  
"Who sent you here?" She asked, attempting to stall for time. There was some vain hope that the cowardly driver would contact the police.  
  
She had been so intent on escaping from the locked cab that she hadn't looked clearly at the men surrounding the vehicle. Now she took time to study them she was becoming more afraid. The warriors were not human that much was clear, but where they had come from and who had dispatched them remained a mystery. Her fear was prevailing over her sense of reason, after all an unknown foe holds greater power than a proven one.  
  
"What do you want?" Her voice trembled and her eyes darted from one grey face to the next. She prayed that one of them would talk to her instead of staring at her like she was some kind of bug on a pin.  
  
The thought of reading them crossed her mind in an instant and she dismissed it out of hand. Even when she subdued her abilities the smallest of whispers could still be heard, there was nothing from these things. She assumed that their thought processes were so alien to her that they were beyond her capacity to understand. Given time she could probably find a way to do it, but time was not something she was willing or able to waste.  
  
One of the warriors circled behind her, he approached her cautiously and she tried to scramble out of his way. Her hand slid on the wet concrete, her supporting arm bent at an odd angle and she fell to the side, cracking her head on the sharp edge of the sidewalk.  
  
Pain exploded in her head and she raised a shaking hand to touch the tender spot, already knowing she was bleeding. Around her she could hear the men snarling and barking at each other and felt an arm push its way under her shoulders. She tried to protest and squirmed weakly as she was lifted from the street, the act causing more pain in her injured head.  
  
The features of the thing which carried her swam before her watering eyes, contorting and melding. The image was grotesque and she felt her stomach churn.  
  
Granlar held her at a distance to his body, much as a man would carry something he found distasteful or dirty. In fact he was more afraid of hurting her than he would care to admit. Supreme Rathlyn had stipulated she was not be harmed in any way.  
  
Again she attempted to struggle out his grasp, the effort was just enough to roll her further from him and she felt herself slip out of his arms. Only when she hit the unforgiving concrete did she think perhaps it was not the cleverest of ideas. This time it was the back of her head which took the brunt of her fall and she was blessedly unaware by the time the rest of her hit the ground.  
  
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Jamie's little boy bedroom was decorated with fluffy clouds in a perfect blue sky with grinning cartoon animals capering around in a painted jungle. He lay under in his warm blanket dreaming of a pirate adventure when the vision struck him. His tiny body became rigid and he screamed for his Mommy.  
  
Sylvia and Paul both bolted out bed before they were even fully awake. The primal urge to protect their child over riding any reason. Somewhere in their minds they understood Jamie was having a nightmare but until they saw him and held him safe in their arms they wouldn't be sure.  
  
Paul was the first to enter Jamie's room, seeing the child sitting up in bed with huge eyes streaming tears and sobbing so hard it seemed he was struggling to breathe.  
  
"Jay? Jay, honey it's okay. Daddy's right here, tell me what's wrong." Paul lifted the weeping little bundle into his lap and wrapped his strong arms around him.  
  
"Darling, tell Daddy what's wrong." Sylvia knelt down at the side of Jamie's bed so she could look directly into her sons terrified little face.  
  
"I... I... had... a.... dream." He sobbed, still trying to catch his breath. "Monsters, Mommy." He continued when he had calmed enough to explain.  
  
"It was just a nightmare, kiddo." Paul was stroking Jamie's hair and kissing his head. Trying to reassure the three year old that everything was fine. He could feel the little tykes heart beating madly through his ninja turtle PJ's. Paul's own heart rate wasn't exactly slow either and judging by the way Syl was clutching at her throat they had all been frightened.  
  
"Monsters were chasing Annie. She was really scared." Jamie's eyes had already started to droop. Sylvia was always amazed by children's resilience.  
  
"Anne's out at a party with Uncle Rob." She soothed, "Robbie won't let anything bad happen to her."  
  
"He wasn't there." The child yawned and Paul could feel his body becoming limp. He hugged him one last time then returned him to bed, pulling the blanket over his shoulder and tucking it under his chin.  
  
"You can tell Annie all about her adventures in the morning." Sylvia whispered as she gently brushed her lips against Jamie's satin soft cheek.  
  
"She needs her angel." Jamie mumbled as sleep returned and took him back to the pirates.  
  
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Cordelia scooted closer to Blake's warm body and snuggled into his side. He dropped his arm, wrapping it around her and smiling to himself. Even when he was sleeping she made him feel good.  
  
He woke with a grunt when she started struggling, he thought she must be having a nightmare until he looked and saw her eyes were wide open.  
  
"What is it?" He asked stupidly. He knew full well what was going on, his still drowsy brain just hadn't warmed up yet and was sending the wrong messages to his mouth.  
  
"Vision." She grumbled the word like a curse as she swung her legs out of the bed and left the room.  
  
"Where are you going?" He stood and followed her, searching the dark lounge for any sign of movement. He caught a glimpse of her kneeling on the floor and rummaging in her purse. "What are you looking for?"  
  
"My phone." She replied still emptying the contents of her handbag.  
  
Blake walked over to a side table and lifted his phone and took it to her. "Use the land line." He prompted as he sat on the sofa and looked at her beautiful nakedness.  
  
"I'm sorry." She whispered as she dialled Angel's apartment number and listened.  
  
"Would you like a brandy?" He asked rising and brushing his hand through her hair as he passed. She nodded without speaking, she was becoming impatient and the incessant ringing of Angel's unanswered phone wasn't helping.  
  
"Where the hell could he be at this hour?" She wondered aloud. She checked the clock on Blake's wall and noticed that it wasn't all that late, not for Angel at least.  
  
"Helping the helpless, I guess." Blake answered, returning to her side holding a black towelling robe, her new bunny slippers and warming a glass of brandy in his hand.  
  
"Where did I find you?" She kissed his cheek as he slipped the robe around her. She hung up on Angel's apartment and dialled his office instead.  
  
"I was arguing with one of your security guys standing outside the library door, remember?"  
  
"Of course I remember, you looked really hot in that suit." She cut the phone off again and mumbled a number of unintelligible words before she began dialling again.  
  
"Where are you trying now?" He sat down and handed her the warmed brandy and smiled reassuringly. This wasn't exactly how he had imagined the evening progressing but he cared enough about her to make allowances. She had a higher purpose who was he to grumble. Anyway she woke up in his bed, he could put up with almost anything if that was the case.  
  
"My last resort." She informed him, "Angel's cell phone."  
  
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"How could you drop her, you bumbling oaf?" Snort eyed Granlar and sneered as best he could. His scathing look was as ineffective as his insult.  
  
The two Myoran's glowered at each other over the prone body of Ariane who had not stirred in the time it had taken for Granlar to transport her to their refuge.  
  
"I didn't have as good a grip of her as I should have." He spoke the words as though talking to a halfwit, "I was more concerned with not hurting her further when she struggled."  
  
"Supreme Rathlyn will be very displeased." The sly satisfaction on Snort's narrow face made Granlar want to use it for target practice. He could fully imagine his large fist reorganising the snivelling little cretins features.  
  
"Supreme Rathlyn understands the complications which can arise in the field." He informed Snort, who, true to his name snorted his doubt of Granlar's grand assumption.  
  
"Rathlyn wished to take the key to King Myor in pristine condition. What will the King think when he looks upon this?" Snort motioned to Ariane's lifeless condition with a sweep of his arm.  
  
"I am not in the habit of speculating our Sovereigns judgments, Snort. I leave that to grovelling pedagogues such as yourself." Granlar pulled his lips back and barred his teeth menacingly to Snort who backed away.  
  
Snort was taken aback more by the warriors comments than his ferocious posturing. Granlar was a thinking mans warrior, not like Rathlyn who thought first with his ... sword. "I would do well to be cautious in my dealings with this one." He thought as he left the warrior alone to guard the girl.  
  
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Angel had been driving around for over an hour, going nowhere and trying to clear his head. It seemed to be working too until his dash board lit up like a Christmas tree and started buzzing at him.  
  
"This better be good." He sighed and touched a button on the steering wheel.  
  
"Angel." Cordelia didn't wait for him to announce himself.  
  
"Cordy? What's up, are you okay?" As always, his first thought was for her well-being.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why aren't you at home? Where the hell are you?" The words came out in one long sentence without time for a breath between.  
  
"In the car." He stated.  
  
"Well, duh. I mean what are you doing, and if you say driving I'm going to scream."  
  
"I needed to get out for a while." He admitted. "I'm guessing that isn't the reason you called me, what did you see?"  
  
"Huge ugly things, grey skin, long black hair, use a lot of leather in their wardrobe. Could be those Myoran's you were looking for. I'll spare you the details but they've taken some girl, I didn't see her face. She's being held prisoner, it looked like a dungeon, or a basement in an old house."  
  
"Damn it, I knew we didn't have time to mess around on this one." He slammed the heal of his hand on the steering wheel in frustration and regretted it when the horn blasted.  
  
"Deafen me why don't you." Cordy scolded and swapped ears on the phone. "Do you want me to get everyone together?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll meet you back at the office." He started the engine, checked his mirrors and spun the car around, back in the direction of the office. He had spent long enough staring at the place Savages' Merc had exploded.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Return her to the holding cell." Rathlyn barked and smashed his mammoth fist into the stone table in front of him. The sting it produced was pleasing, cleansing his mind and clearing his anger jumbled thoughts. Things were not going well.  
  
Ariane, who had been thrown back from the Myoran doorway for the fourth time, hugged her knees and wiped a grimy hand across her face. Her whole body was aching, her head was still spinning from the knocks it had taken and she felt nauseous. Still there was some consolation in the fact that where ever these things wanted to take her, it didn't seem to be working.  
  
Evraham lifted her effortlessly, holding her more tightly than Granlar had the first time. She did not squirm or struggle this time as she had the previous two. She was either too tired or resigned to the fact that she couldn't escape. He strode through the door and back toward her cell without a word.  
  
Rathlyn was seething and Granlar could see saliva glistening on his chin, his eyes were like the burning pits of Hades. Thankfully this predicament had taken precedence over his previous mishap with the young woman and the table was all Rathlyn was venting his frustration on, so far.  
  
"Why can we not transport her through the portal." He spat and hissed at Snort Grabbing the whimpering man and holding him by his robe only an inch from Rathlyn's face.  
  
"There seems to be some kind of charm preventing her from leaving this dimension my lord." Snort was trembling so violently he was in danger of shaking himself apart.  
  
"Why did you not inform me of this before?" Rathlyn relaxed his grip and let Snort fall to the floor in heap.  
  
"We did not know of it before, Supreme Rathlyn. We had no reason to believe the key was being protected. It appeared to be abandoned, unrestrained by any master." Rathlyn dropped him and Snort scrambled to his knees and bowed before the raging warrior.  
  
"Abandoned she may be, unrestrained she obviously is not." He griped and began pacing the room. How was he going to explain this mess to the King?  
  
"I shall put our druids to work on breaking the enchantment, my lord." Snort backed away barely rising from his knees.  
  
Granlar watched from the dark corner he stood in. He had said nothing during Rathlyn's conversation with the grovelling fool, nor would he speak now. He would wait, patience was a virtue he had honed over the years. Rathlyn would come to him when he had collected his own thoughts and come to some of his own conclusions. With Rathlyn that could take some time.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Stay here, there's no reason for you to come with me." Cordelia tried in vain to talk Blake out of taking her to the office.  
  
"I don't want you driving on your own at this time of night, I mean morning." He corrected and pulled up the zip of his jeans. "Anyway, there are a couple of things I can tidy up in the office while I wait."  
  
"I'm perfectly safe on my own." She informed him not willing for him to think she was too weak to look after herself.  
  
"I bet that's what the girl you saw in your vision thought too." He twirled his car keys around his finger and stood by the door indicating she had no option but to accept his offer.  
  
"Okay, if you insist on playing my knight in shining Levi's then I guess there's nothing I can do to stop you." She hit him with a swinging hip as she opened the door and they left.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Zis berrer be bloody good, cuz I wiz in a middle of a really good dream." By the end of the sentence Spike's tongue had woken up, the rest of him wasn't far behind.  
  
"I need you back at the office." Angel replied.  
  
"As if." Spike scoffed and had the phone almost back in its cradle when he heard Angel's voice again.  
  
"They've got the key."  
  
"Not my problem, mate. Your mister fix it, right? I'm off duty." Again he removed the phone from his ear but this time he hesitated before dropping it. "Your cheerleader have a vision?"  
  
"She's not MY cheerleader." Angel corrected and scolded himself for even crediting the moron with a reply.  
  
"Oh, still a bit raw there, gay boy." Spike broke into a grin, as always when he knew Angel was mad. "Humped and dumped. Shagged and bagged. Oh, sorry, forgot you didn't even get that far, did you." He continued, enjoying himself immensely.  
  
Angel said nothing, hoping Spike could drag his feeble mind out of the cesspit it called home and into reality. Much as he hated to admit it, Spike's help might be required on this one.  
  
When he didn't seem to be running out of insults, Angel interrupted again. "I know bugging me gets you off Spike, but could you save it for later? They have the key and we need to get it back."  
  
"Told you, not my problem. Unless you don't think you can handle this all on your own? Is that it, poof? You NEED me." Spike stressed the word and waited to see if Angel would admit to it. He waited for some time.  
  
"Oy, ponce, you listening to me?" His frustration boiled over. Spike could deal with practically anything, but he couldn't stand being ignored.  
  
"I'll see you in fifteen." Angel smirked to himself as he cut Spike off mid-tantrum.  
  
He stood and busied himself making two strong pots of coffee and called for some pastries to be brought up. The gang would need something to work on, and something to keep them awake. This one had all the markings of becoming a very long day. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Imzadi: Remember, in this one he's a married man! What do you look like, maybe you're my Rachel?  
  
Celtic Cat: First you want me to take my time, then you want me to hurry up? You fickle feline. Name check for someone you may recognise coming up, think he'll like it?  
  
The 30 others: Either you guys don't like it and you're masochists, or I'm doing something right and you keep coming back for more. Thanks either way.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"The cab was jacked in an alley downtown." Gunn informed the assembled group strolling into Angel's office in sweats and a tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. Apparently he had pulled on what ever was closest to his hand and jumped in his car.  
  
He waved a piece of yellow note paper with the meagre details on it under Angel's nose and snatched up an empty mug, crossing to the coffee pot and pouring in the last dregs of fully leaded brain fuel. When it only filled up half of his mug he tutted loudly and set about making some more.  
  
Lorne was pacing the room with his cell phone stuck to his ear and occasionally punctuating the silence with yes's and okay's. He flipped the phone closed and threw it onto the sofa, rubbing gently at his flattened ear. "Details are sketchy on this one, cherubs. These Myoran goons are about as traceable as a ..."  
  
"Fart in a cyclone." Spike finished Lorne's sentence and nodded to everyone in the room except Angel. He always managed to make an entrance into something unique. Not always a good thing, but always special.  
  
"I wouldn't have been quite that crude, Prickles, but thanks for the disgusting image." Lorne wrinkled his nose and joined his discarded cell onto the couch. He was exhausted and wanted a drink but Angel had banned him from the cocktails until after the crisis had lifted. It was pointless to try to convince him he worked better with a Mojito or two under his belt.  
  
"Cops are questioning the cab driver now, they don't think they'll get much out of him. He just keeps telling them it was four monsters who attacked him." Gunn reported what he had been told by his source at the LAPD.  
  
"Spike, you think you could find out what he knows?" Angel couldn't believe what he was asking, more to the point he couldn't believe whom he was asking.  
  
"Normally I'd tell you blow yourself, but if it gets me out of this place I'll do anything." Spike stood and strolled to the door stopping just before leaving. "Cheerleader's a bit late ain't she? Think she stopped for a quickie with the competition?" He smirked and shot out of the door too quickly for Angel to compose a fitting comeback.  
  
"Everyone knows how much I hate him, right?" He muttered. There were several grumbled acknowledgements and a few nodded heads.  
  
"What brings all you guy's together at this time in the morning?" Lindsey stuck his handsome but unshaven face around the door and smiled warmly. The grin faded when he noticed Wes and very tired looking Fred bickering over a rather heavy leather bound book. Lorne on the sofa with his head in his hands and no drink in sight and Angel in the corner looking stern. Everything except Angel's expression was unusual. "This doesn't look good, what gives?"  
  
"What you doing here, Rachel kick you out?" Gunn smirked and handed the other man a fresh cup of coffee.  
  
"She's visiting her sister, I couldn't sleep without her in the house." He admitted a little ashamedly.  
  
"Poor baby." Gunn chided and took a seat in front of Angel's desk.  
  
"What you working on?" Lindsey asked again.  
  
"Kidnapping, sort of. We think some Myoran hard men have nabbed a key." Gunn wasn't sure if he should be telling Lindsey any of this, but if it was top secret nobody told him.  
  
"Who'd be dumb enough to leave a key out in the open without protection?" He wondered aloud. "You've checked the database, right?"  
  
"What database?" Angel snapped, finally giving the lawyer his full attention.  
  
"There's a list of every key created, its place of origin and it's purpose. I thought you guys would have checked out all the computer records already?" Lindsey shook his head and shrugged at the various scowls he received, he had suddenly become the centre of attention.  
  
Angel was narked and Fred and Wesley were cursing under their breath. Neither of them was sure whose responsibility that particular system would fall under.  
  
"Can you ....?" Angel looked to Lindsey to give some assistance.  
  
"Sure." There was no hesitation, Lindsey was on his feet and tapping on the keyboard on Angel's desk in seconds. "Needs your password, boss." He nodded and pushed the keyboard toward him.  
  
"Which password?" Angel stared back blankly, he had been given several passwords for different things, voice activated locks, and login's for the forty or so systems on the damned computer and those were the systems he knew about.  
  
"When they set it up for me they asked for the name of my first pet or my first born. What was your dogs name?"  
  
"Who says I'm a dog person?" Angel tapped the keys lightly and tried to hide the name he was using.  
  
"Bingo!" Lindsey announced when the application start-up window appeared.  
  
"Your dogs name was bingo?" Gunn wrinkled his forehead and sniggered. Angel shot him a withering glare and shook his head.  
  
"No stupid, I mean we're in." Lindsey corrected and flexed his fingers ready to work some technological magic.  
  
Cordelia breezed into the office with a wide smile that told everyone exactly how good she was feeling. "What did I miss?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ariane was cold, tired, dirty and dizzy. Her head felt like someone had replaced it with a blender and she ached all over from being thrown clear of their portal more times than she cared to count.  
  
"Where are they trying to take me?" She whispered mostly to herself. Granlar turned at the sound of her voice and his deep-set black eyes narrowed as they met her own. He turned away without comment; he had been instructed no one was to converse with the key but Rathlyn or the King himself.  
  
"Why were you charged with guarding me? There's nowhere for me to go, not that I could." She picked up the thick chains that were attached to her ankles and wrists and clanked them together for emphasis. They probably weighed as much as she did.  
  
"You told me you wouldn't harm me. What then is your intention?" She shifted uncomfortably and leaned against the rough stone wall at her back. She let her head drop back against the cold surface and she stared at the ceiling, eventually closing her eyes.  
  
The whole room was cold and damp and she gave an involuntary shudder, her arms breaking out in goose flesh. She groaned and lifted her heavy hand to her spinning head. She didn't know which was worse, the headache or the nausea.  
  
Granlar studied her and cursed Rathlyn and his orders. She needed to be seen by a medic, if only to have the wounds in her head cleaned and inspected. The old ox wouldn't hear of it. She could be attended to by the Kings physician when they reached Th'hesela, he said. Still he had said nothing against making her more comfortable.  
  
He walked to a hollow in the stone wall and reached inside its black depths, pulling out a large bundle, which he unrolled and folded in half.  
  
"Take this." He mumbled and handed the huge rough woven blanket to Ari who looked up in surprise and fear. "I told you I would not harm you. I do not lie."  
  
"Thank you." She stretched up to take the blanket from him but her chains would not allow her enough range.  
  
Granlar took another hesitant step toward her, somehow reluctant to be too close to her.  
  
"I promise I will not harm you." She spoke his words with her eyes down cast then raised them to look directly at him with an earnest, if exhausted smile.  
  
He was powerless to resist retuning that smile even though the fit was far from comfortable. There had been damned little to smile about in his lifetime. His reluctance subsided and he crouched beside her wrapping the blanket around her legs. Though folded in half it could still have covered her twice over.  
  
"Thank you." She repeated, this time she touched his hand lightly. He pulled back quickly, the number of wrinkles on his forehead seemed to double and he glared at her.  
  
Nothing in her eyes had changed; they were still looking up at him with the same intense honesty. "Why are you afraid of me?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Tough night?" Spike asked conversationally. The cab driver looked over at him from his seat in an otherwise empty row beside the door.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He muttered, shaking his head and dry washing his haggard face.  
  
"You're Mick, right? Name's Will." Spike sauntered over with his hand outstretched. "Gaffer sent me to give you a ride home."  
  
"No kidding? Thanks." Mick stood and shook Spikes hand. Spike pointed back toward the exit and they both made their way back to the door.  
  
On the precinct steps, Mick stopped and scanned the street looking for a cab amongst the sea of blue and white. Spike, a few paces in front, halted and glanced over his shoulder.  
  
"Over 'ere." He jerked his head in the direction of his car and the cabbie followed. It was the same car Angel had arranged for him and he had managed to forget to return.  
  
"No cab?" Mick enquired noting the sleek black Wolfram & Hart pool car.  
  
"I'm a limo driver, this is my birds car." He grinned at the idea of Angel being described a bird.  
  
"I should have guessed you were a limo driver with that accent. Bet it goes down great with the ladies?" Mick climbed into Spikes car and sank into the soft seat with an audible sigh.  
  
"What was with the third degree? Cab's get held up every day." Pulling out from the kerb, Spike managed to turn the conversation toward a more interesting topic.  
  
"This wasn't just a couple of guy's looking for money to score with." Mick informed him and shuddered. "They didn't even take the cash, just the girl."  
  
"Kidnapping, Jesus." Spike played along hoping to get more out of Mick. "Was she famous or something?"  
  
"Had the looks, but not the body if you know what I mean?" Mick winked and nudged Spike's arm.  
  
Spike thought he could fill in the blanks on his own. "Needed some work done on the chassis?"  
  
"Beyond repair, I'd say. Still damned pretty girl, blue dress, and dark hair, biggest, bluest eyes I've ever seen. You don't think anything bad happens to girls like that. Pity."  
  
"Pity? Getting snatched like that?" Something in Mick's reply made Spike think he had skipped a page or two.  
  
"Well, yeah. That too, but."  
  
"But, what?"  
  
"You don't usually look too far beyond the wheelchair do you?"  
  
"Wheelchair? Oh right, you lost me there for a bit." Spike nodded, that wasn't the kind of repair work he'd had in mind. "Why do you think they took her?" He asked getting back to the point of this trip and filing away the other pieces of information for later.  
  
"Ransom money is my guess. I was taking her to Palm Crest Drive. Rich parents probably...." Spikes eyes went wide and he momentarily forgot to watch the road as he glared at Mick.  
  
"Blue dress, dark hair, blue eyes, Palm Crest Drive." He ran over the possible coincidences in his head. It couldn't be Ari, that would just be too weird. Then again weird was kind of her trade mark wasn't it.  
  
"What number?" He spat and had to fight back an urge to grab the guy by the shirt and shake the answer out of him. Unable to restrain himself completely he slipped into game face and his yellow eyes sparkled with rage.  
  
"4457, I think." Mick stammered. He had thought he was too tired to be terrified twice in one night, he was wrong.  
  
Spike brought the car to a skidding halt. The drivers on both sides and behind him blasted their horns and diverted around him. He leaned over Mick and pushed the door open causing another car to pull sharply out of its path.  
  
"Get hell out of my car you sodding coward." Spike yelled propelling a stunned Mick out into the screaming traffic.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Hey, says here there was a key in Sunnydale. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?" Lindsey eyed Angel and lifted one questioning eyebrow.  
  
"Nothing I feel like sharing, no." Angel replied frostily. Lindsey could tell by Angel's tone that it was a closed subject.  
  
"What else have you found?" He asked.  
  
"Most of these have already been used." Lindsey commented, indicating the greyed out records. He scanned the information on the screen and clicked the mouse to scroll down the remainder of the page. "What's that?"  
  
"What?" Angel glanced at the lines and lines of names and dates.  
  
"This one here." Lindsey moved the mouse and hung it over the record he was referring to. "Record incomplete, what does that mean?" He double clicked to open the file and waited as the information displayed itself. "Creation date was ..... 1982, that's an old key. Current status ..... active, how the hell can it still be active?"  
  
"What's the big deal?" Angel shrugged not up to date with key lore.  
  
"The big deal is, a key is formed for a purpose." Wesley explained, prying himself away from his book for a second. "They are temporary tools to be produced and used, not saved for a rainy day as it were. It takes a great deal of power and knowledge to craft a key, Angel. Not to mention the logistics or funds such a procedure demands. The process requires too much effort for them to be created for nothing."  
  
"So someone made a key back in '82 and lost it?" It was one possible theory, but it sounded way too simple.  
  
"Doubtful." Wesley shook his head and scowled. "Key's are a rare and precious commodity, Angel. Very powerful and very dangerous in the wrong hands, or have you forgotten why Glory wanted Dawn?"  
  
"I haven't forgotten anything, Wes." Angel shot Wesley and warning look and he returned to his book abashed.  
  
"No chance some one would rustle one of these babies up for kicks?" Gunn looked to Lindsey who seemed to have a working knowledge of the subject. He shook his head and gave Gunn a look indicating he thought the suggestion was ridiculous.  
  
"Nobody would be dumb enough to go to all the trouble of making a key and then loose it. It's not like it could fall out of a hole in your pocket." Lindsey carried on.  
  
"Okay, maybe it was made for some grand purpose and someone stole it? I'm guessing something like that would bring a high price on the open market?" Angel shrugged.  
  
"Couldn't exactly auction it on e-bay." Gunn rubbed his hand over his head and tried not to yawn.  
  
"Damned right." Lindsey confirmed, "The theory just doesn't hold water. That would mean someone was smart enough to steal the key in the first place but dumb enough to put it somewhere your Myoran's could steal it? I don't think so."  
  
"Okay, you're the one with all the idea's, what's your hunch?" Angel turned to Lindsey and they eyed each other over the length of the desk. Everyone had turned to watch them both face off.  
  
"I don't do hunches, I'm an lawyer not a cop." Lindsey stood his ground and volleyed the question back into Angel's court.  
  
"Fine, councillor, how about you make an argument?"  
  
"You're forcing me into supposition, it's shaky ground, Angel."  
  
"There's a girl out there who needs us to get her out of this and we're standing here trading words like a high school debate team." With his usual economy, Angel brought the situation back home. They were not discussing an inanimate object, they were talking about a girl. A girl who, if she was anything like Dawn, had a life and a home and a family.  
  
"Well ...." Lindsey stalled, "Look here." He pointed on the screen to a cell without an entry in it.  
  
"It's empty." Angel looked at Lindsey and waited for him to explain.  
  
"This is where a key's function should be. See with the rest of them there is a code in there. 304, that's opening a portal, 216, that's reversing someone's fate. We don't have any info on this one except when it was manufactured." Lindsey was randomly clicking the mouse on header tabs to show Angel they were also empty. He dropped the mouse and turned away from the screen in disappointment.  
  
"And it's location." Angel pulled him out of his sulk and pointed to an address on the screen. "We can work out the whys after we get her back."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Granlar's eyes bored into Ariane and she had to will herself not to look away. He was the kind of man who reacted badly to signs weakness.  
  
"Fear? You?" Two words. Two questions.  
  
"Perhaps not me, more what they want me to do." She surprised herself with how calm she sounded. Her heart was slamming in her chest so hard she thought he must be able to hear it.  
  
Granlar's mind was racing. He could hear the words of the legend echoing in his head. He had heard it told so many times, passed down from generation to generation, had told it to his own children. It was so old it was believed to be no more than a faerie tale.  
  
"With a touch the opener of ages shall know secrets kept by sacred hearts." He mouthed the words, not daring to speak them aloud. He stood transfixed and watched as Ariane returned to her position with head tilted back and her eyes closed. "Could she truly be the one?"  
  
"Granlar." Rathlyn barked from the opening in the wall which served as the rooms doorway. "The druids are done with their mutterings and spell casting. We must take it to the King at once, time grows short."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Spike raced the car through the city streets, turning lefts and rights apparently at random. He went shooting through litter strewn alley's like the villain in a Starsky and Hutch re-run.  
  
He flew out of one such alley and skidded into a right hand turn, the tires screaming their defiance at his lunatic manoeuvres. Another turn, this one to the left, brought him out at the rear entrance to the Wolfram & Hart building. He pulled the car into the half hidden opening to the underground parking facility.  
  
Spike slalomed the car in and out of supporting pillars and brought it to screeching halt. Abandoning the vehicle with it's engine still running across three parking slots he ran full pelt to the elevator.  
  
All heads rose as he threw both heavy doors open and marched into Angel's office, all those that remained there at least.  
  
Lorne had at last mixed himself a cocktail and at seeing Spike's expression he gave up sipping it and took a huge gulp instead. Wesley, who had been in the middle of a heated discussion with Lindsey over the relevance of the key's less than detailed history, stopped talking and gaped at Spike.  
  
"Where's Angel?" The vampire growled. There was a mixture of anger, frustration and fear in voice.  
  
"We got a lead, he's gone with Gunn to check it out." Wesley informed him, his brow wrinkled more in concern than enquiry. It had been some time since he had seen Spike act so strangely. "What did the taxi driver have to say?"  
  
"4457 Palm Crest Drive." Spike replied. 


	10. Chapter Ten

Celtic Cat: Still with me, that's a compliment in itself. I'm looking for your honest opinion on the following. This one was tough, but I told you that already.  
  
Imzadi: Just a cameo, but there is more to come, don't despair.  
  
lilithangel: Me, a tease? I just have an over developed passion for dramatic cliffhangers. Oh, and what did you think of Angel's Gift? Not that I'm fishing or anything.  
  
29 this time: I won't bite if you review, honest. Well perhaps just a little taste. Thanks for reading.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is that address supposed to hold some great significance?" Lindsey asked with a shrug of his shoulders. "Cause I'm missing it."  
  
"You're supposed to miss it, dipstick. The watcher on the other hand knows exactly what I'm talking about, don't you, Percy?" Spike tilted his head to one side slightly and read everything in Wesley's grey pallor and shocked expression.  
  
"Are you ...?" The question stuck in his throat and he swallowed hard passed the solid lump of dread.  
  
"Sure?" Spike finished the question for him; "Mick the cabbie described her right down to the baby blues. Still think we were right not tell him?"  
  
"Hold it. Tell who, what? Is this some sad assed code, cause I'm lost?" Lindsey was tired and well passed the point where he felt like playing games.  
  
Fred wandered out of Angel's bathroom into the middle of Lindsey's questions. She noticed Spike's presence before she noticed his expression. "What did you come up with, Spike? Anything we can use?"  
  
"You could say that, princess. The key these Myoran's had such a hard on for. It turns out it's none other than the late Ariane herself."  
  
Fred's jaw dropped. Lorne who had been pacing back and fourth during the whole exchange dropped his martini glass. Lindsey, who was closer to anger than any other emotion, suddenly found his knees had gone weak and sat down heavily in Angel's chair.  
  
"We should contact Angel." Wesley regained his composure and picked up the telephone, preparing to dial Angel's cell phone.  
  
"No!" Spike and Fred said together.  
  
Wesley shared his look of uncertainty equally between both of them. "And why not?" He asked sounding calmer than he felt.  
  
"Because he's all gung ho and fired up for a fight as it is. All he needs now is a reason to make this personal and he'll be merciless." Fred wasn't over the fact that they were talking about Ariane, but she was trying to look beyond that initial problem to the more immediate one.  
  
"It is personal." Lindsey mumbled, he was stuck at the part where the girl he "killed" wasn't actually dead.  
  
"He'll find that out soon enough, and without our help. The last thing I want is the ponce after me for keeping secrets." Spike took a seat next to Lorne on the sofa and wondered what Angel was up to.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel and Gunn travelled in contemplative silence, tailing the blacked out ops vans to the location they had uncovered. They drove around the perimeter, leaving one ops team at the rear of the property. The remaining van and Angel's gleaming black Porsche drew to a halt at the front gate. The brass nameplate beside the black iron gates read. "The Holy Order of Awen Monastic Retreat."  
  
"It's a religious retreat, Angel." Gunn said, spotting the sign and turning a questioning glance at his boss.  
  
"I can read." Angel sighed.  
  
"Are we going to bust in there with the storm troopers and tear up the place? It could be full of little guys in orange robes? I don't feel good about beating up on some peace lovin' Monks, Angel." Gunn voiced his reservations, trying to peer through the gates to catch a glimpse of his afore mentioned, orange robed friends.  
  
"Buddhist monks wear orange robes. These aren't Buddhists." Angel informed him.  
  
"You know that, how?"  
  
"The sign says Awen. That's the holy sprit of Druidry, that's how."  
  
"Right, great. So no orange robes, what are druids like?"  
  
"Less colourful." Angel answered dryly.  
  
His dashboard lit as his cell phone buzzed, pressing the button on his steering wheel he waited for the caller to speak first.  
  
"How do you want to handle this, Sir?" Adams strong, authoritative voice came through the speakers.  
  
"What are we looking at?" Angel asked knowing the team would have been gathering information en route.  
  
"It's a three storey structure, stone construction. There are no external signs of security, electronic, artillery or personnel. Satellite surveillance scans are showing us between thirty and thirty five people in the building. We've located three points of entry, front door, back door and concealed access through a trap door to some basement tunnels." Adams gave the information with military conciseness. "Your intelligence leads us to think the target is being held in the cellar, thermal imaging of that sector concurs."  
  
"We'll take two of your men and enter through the trapdoor." Angel informed him, relying on Adams to make the rest of the arrangements with his own teams.  
  
"Smoke bombs though four of the windows should flood the ground floor within thirty seconds." Adams replied, "These are the most densely occupied areas and the gas should confuse and disorient most of the occupants. We'll be in and out before they have time to realise what's going on."  
  
"Sure." Angel shrugged, as far as he was concerned the ops team were a diversion. They could run interference while he and Gunn did the search and rescue.  
  
"We keep it simple, as few casualties as possible. I want to be gone with the key before they know we're there. No fatalities, are we clear on that?"  
  
"That's affirmative, Sir. We go on your call." Adams replied emotionlessly and signed off, awaiting Angel's signal to proceed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You must hold her more tightly this time." Rathlyn growled, spitting with frustration in the face of the young soldier holding Ariane in his arms. His scant intellect actually made him believe physical force could take the girl through the gateway.  
  
This was now the eighth attempted they had made. Each time the warrior carrying the key slipped through the portal unhindered, but the girl was thrown clear. Six Druids in long brown robes stood in a rough semi circle around her and chanted unintelligible nonsense. Throwing around some rancid smelling oil and shaking a smoking stick around Ariane's head. Rathlyn was beyond anger, he was beyond fury, and well on his way to a killing zone.  
  
He faced the bruised and exhausted woman and glared at her, his eyes reflecting his rage. "You will allow us to take you over this threshold or I will...."  
  
"You will what? Spare me your threats, it is not me who stops you." Ari's voice was barely a whisper above the druid's mantra. Yet she was sure the man they referred to as Supreme understood every word. The soldier's grip tightened around her and she flinched in pain. She was hurt in places she didn't know she had places.  
  
The druids fell silent and again she was carried toward the shimmering oval they called the threshold.  
  
She closed her eyes when she felt the now familiar cold tingling sensation as the portal touched her bare flesh. It began to mould around her, brushing against her skin without pressure. The moment the soldiers leading foot touched the portal the man became less solid, less there. She sensed more than felt his grip on her loosing. What she did feel was a tightening of the portals surface, like elastic being pulled taught. There was an audible pop as the man passed through, for a second it appeared she was suspended in mid-air. Then she was propelled back across the room, crashing into the far wall, knocking into two of the stunned druids on her way.  
  
She fell to the floor feeling much the way she imagined a swatted bug would feel. She noticed something warm and wet running down her arm and forced her eyes open to see a thin track of blood flowing from a gash in her shoulder. Rathlyn was cursing madly behind her. She didn't understand the words he was using, but curses all sounded alike, hard and bitter.  
  
It was then that they heard the musical tinkling of braking glass and an odd hissing from the floor above.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Is everything set up?" Cordelia asked the dark suited man at her side as she marched down the corridor to her office.  
  
"Medical team standing by, interrogation suite set up, security on high alert and we're waiting for the additional men you requested to get here. We are as ready as we can be." He answered glancing at his palm held computer.  
  
"Are we monitoring the operation?" She pushed open her office door and turned on the light.  
  
"Of course. I had it patched to your desk top, you should see everything through their night vision surveillance equipment." Cordelia nudged her mouse and the screen instantly flashed into life. She tapped the keys lightly, keying in her password and clicked an icon to reveal a split screen view of Angel's rescue operation.  
  
"I want everything to be organized for the instant they return, Barclay." She tore her eyes from the monitor and let them fall on the man in front of her.  
  
"It will be." He answered without hesitation.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gunn and Angel waited impatiently in the cold night. They stood at a rough wooden door which appeared to have grown out of the earth itself. Overgrown shrubs, several of which seemed to have taken root in the slowly rotting wood, surrounded it.  
  
They heard shots fired in the distance as the smoke bombs were sent into the building. That was their cue to move and move they did. Gunn swung the axe he carried high over his head and brought it down in one clean fluid arc. There was a simple clink as the padlock split in two and fell from the worn clasp.  
  
Angel, as ever ignoring the chance to allow one of the others to take point, flew passed the two men ops men and ran down the moss slippery stone steps. Gunn was close on his heals, allowing Angel to lead him to wherever the Myoran's were holding the key.  
  
The scents of the building were everywhere. Aged stone and wet plaster mixing with spicy sweat and something stronger, more vital. Blood, Angel could smell blood. It was fresh and it was human, but only a trace. A snarl spread across his face as he thought of the things he would do to these monsters if they had already performed whatever twisted ritual they intended to use the girl for. He couldn't erase the image of Dawn from his mind and the thought of someone torturing her made his cold blood boil.  
  
"This way." He nodded to his left down a dimly lit tunnel. They could hear yells and scuffling feet above and in front of them. That was good, the more men who left the basement and followed the sounds of struggle to the upper floors the better.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The six druids eyed each other nervously from beneath their hooded robes. They could hear the sounds of fighting from above, but no gunfire as yet. Who ever it was who had entered their sanctuary were not there simply to wipe them out. One man, their high priest nodded and they filed silently, single file toward the stone steps returning them to their brothers.  
  
Rathlyn had ceased his ranting and had now drawn his sword and his dagger. He mentally cursed the key. If she had crossed the threshold on their first attempt he would not have lost eight of his warriors. He placed himself at the foot of the stairs with his back to the wall, readying himself for an attack from above.  
  
"How quickly one forgets the ways of battle." Granlar thought to himself as he motioned to his two remaining warriors to protect the key. They took up positions one at her side and the other in front. The shuddering girl had managed to drag herself into a sitting position with her arms hugging her knees. What was left of her once pretty blue dress hung in tatters around her waist.  
  
Granlar circled the room snuffing the candles that lit the interior, plunging them into semi-darkness. The only meagre light spilling from the stairwell where Rathlyn stood, sword and dagger raised.  
  
Granlar positioned himself in the dimmer centre of the room ready for an assault from any direction. He also drew his sword choosing a two handed grip for greater control and thrust. He left his poisoned dagger in its sheath strapped to his calf. He steadied his breathing and focused his mind on listening for movement.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The smell of blood grew stronger as Angel pounded along a narrow, torch lit corridor toward the single wooden door at its far end. He Bypassed other doors along its length without a second glance. This door, unlike the wood of the trap door behind them, looked solid and strong. There were four large padlocks equidistant down the height of the door on its right side. Someone obviously didn't want just anyone getting into the room on the other side of that door.  
  
It would take time to smash all those locks, not to mention the noise it would cause. He smirked to himself when he noticed the hinges were located on his side of the door.  
  
Gripping either side of the wooden door, he sifted it slightly in its frame, motioning for Gunn to remove the pins from the now slackened hinges, as he took the weight. Job done, the door swung open on the still locked side and flattened against the wall.  
  
Gunn nodded with a smile at the simple yet ingenious method of entry. He would have been hacking at the locks without thinking.  
  
This time it was the two security operatives who went in first. They slipped silently between Angel and Gunn who kept themselves out of sight at either side of the doorway. They crept stealthily into the room with their rifles held poised on their shoulders, infrared beams dancing as they panned the room.  
  
Angel heard the shuffling of feet in the room beyond and then two grunts as each of his men dropped to the floor. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dimness of the room beyond and he held up his hand to stop Gunn from entering.  
  
"One in the centre, three by the wall on the left, another one at the back." He whispered to the other man and then they made their move together.  
  
Angel pulled the sword he carried from beneath his jacked and shot from the hidden side of the door in one swift fluid movement. He crossed to the centre of the room, unconsciously making for the strongest and most intimidating occupant. The man there was ready for him raising his sword and nodding once in acknowledgement. Sparks flew as their swords clashed and Angel maintained the illusion of a composed exterior. Inside he was on the wrong side of furious. He had spotted the small figure between the two men and noted her battered condition.  
  
"Strong." Granlar thought as he pushed the man before him backward. He could hear Rathlyn barking to the other men to stay on their guard and he cursed the fool for giving away their position.  
  
Gunn sprang into action when the guy yelled, heading straight for the ass standing with his back to the room. He was rewarded by almost running into him, who ever he was. Gunn had enough time to be amazed by the size of the guy before he used his axe to block a blow from the sword it swung at his head.  
  
"You ain't gonna get me with that thing, Conan." He yelled as he threw a well-placed fist into the gut of the Myoran. The man doubled over, more mass than muscle. Gunn took advantage of the man's crouched position and raised his knee into his face.  
  
Rathlyn, in pain and confusion dropped his sword. Where had these men learned their battle technique? There was no finesse; it was rough and brutal with no similarity to the stylised practice favoured by the Myoran forces. "It is very effective." Rathlyn had time to judge as he wiped blood and mucus from his shattered nose.  
  
He steadied himself tucking his short blade down and backward in his fist, he waited feigning breathlessness. The man before him shifted his weight to strike another blow and Rathlyn took his chance, aiming for Gunn's heart.  
  
Gunn spun, moving on instinct, out of the path of the whistling blade and managed to grab the fist that held it. Using it's own backward motion he guided Rathlyn's hand into the wall where the knife clattered to the floor, blade sheared clean from the hilt.  
  
He punched the man three times, square in the face then placed a single finger between his neck and shoulder. Rathlyn fell to the floor, unconscious. "Pressure points, dipshit. Don't mess with me I'm a lawyer." He stooped and picked up the fallen Myoran's sword then turned around to face the two men guarding the girl.  
  
Angel was still busy with the warrior in the middle of the room. Gunn had to give the guy credit; he had game holding off Angel for that long.  
  
Much as he appreciated the workout, Angel had had enough dancing for one night. The Myoran was an accomplished swordsman, but he was slow in comparison to Angel's vampiric pace. Granlar's defence was lacking and he left himself open for a blow to the back of his head. Angel dealt the blow, striking the man between the shoulder blades.  
  
Granlar fell to his knees with a satisfying groan. He retained enough wit to slip his dagger from its hidden sheath. On the floor he rolled onto his back and struck upward with the blade. Angel dropped his sword and swept Granlar's hand out to his right. The blade grazed his bicep, but he ignored the sting and punched Granlar hard enough to knock him out cold.  
  
He spared no time in joining Gunn who was now battling with the two remaining Myoran's. They looked young and afraid. Angel balanced on his right leg, shifted his weight and threw a devastating kick at the chest of one of the attacking warriors.  
  
The man flew backward and into the wall with a shocked expression. His head struck the unforgiving stone and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious at the side of the terrified, half-naked young woman. Angel turned to collect his sword and noticed more of their team coming down the staircase from the floor above.  
  
"Basement clear." Adams spoke into his radio mike when Gunn dispatched the last Myoran. "What do you want me to do with them?" He asked Angel.  
  
"Take two back with us, throw the others through the portal and seal it." Angel said wincing. He hadn't had time to feel the pain from Granlar's dagger before. Now there was a burning itch travelling up and down his arm. Ignoring it, he bent down in front of the small, shaking figure and spoke softly.  
  
His hand touched her shoulder and she visibly flinched. She had pulled herself into a tight little ball, trying to make herself as small as possible. "You're safe now." He spoke gently, attempting to sooth and reassure her. The girls long dark hair was covering most of her face, the image of Dawn was still with him.  
  
"I won't let anything happen to you." He tried again, this time when his hand reached out he touched only her hair and began to draw it back over her shoulder. Her face was buried between her arms and he could hear her sniffing back tears. He looked at her bruise covered body and had to quell his anger. What the hell had these people done to her? While looking at her, he noticed a large, healed scar on her right shoulder. This wasn't the first time she had been in a battle it seemed.  
  
Again he touched her, this time stroking her head. "We'll get you back to your family." He told her, this time there was a reaction. She turned her head and looked up at him.  
  
Blue eyes met brown and both widened with shocked recognition.  
  
"Angel." Her mouth made the shape of his name but no sound was made. Her astonished sapphire eyes rolled and her body went limp.  
  
"Ari?" 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Celtic Cat: Yes I do stress too much about this. I admit I do it for fun but I really want to do a good job. I want you to enjoy it more than anything else.  
  
Imzadi: You sounded excited when you reviewed Chap Ten. That's what I was aiming for. Thank you very much.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Sod this." Spike stated standing up abruptly and almost knocking the neat Scotch out of Lorne's shaking hands. "I'm going to go bloody mental if I have to wait around here much longer."  
  
"I'm still not telling you where they went." Wesley replied pleasantly without raising his head from the book he was reading. There was no need for Spike to go haring off after Gunn and Angel. They had a perfectly capable team with them and Spike would most definitely be in the way.  
  
Under the circumstances Wesley was much happier that both Spike and Angel were not fighting the Myoran's with Spikes little titbit of information already under their hats. Spike was the poster boy for loose cannon at the best of times and his newly acquired knowledge was making him crazy. Angel, well he was already furious that the warriors had been able to pick up the key before they could protect her. When he discovered it was a hopefully still alive and well Ariane they had taken, he would be beyond all reasoning.  
  
"We're all sitting around here like a bunch of straw arsed old ladies. There's work to be done. Myoran's to fight, demons to chase. Ariane to rescue." Spike continued to ramble.  
  
"If you don't shut up I'm going to find myself a stake and chase my own demon." Lindsey drawled. He was now lying on one side of Angel's leather sofa. A softly snoring Fred who had succumbed to exhaustion occupied the other side. Spike had been doing the same dance every couple of minutes since he got back and it was wearing on Lindsey's nerves.  
  
"Does your wife know about that mean streak?" Spike asked.  
  
"She's never given me reason to show it. You on the other hand..." Lindsey left the sentence unfinished.  
  
"I hate this." Spike muttered.  
  
"No one would have guessed." Wesley sighed and closed the book. It was pointless trying to read with Spike pacing around and generally disturbing his already delicate concentration.  
  
"How long have they been gone?"  
  
"How old are you?" Lindsey sat up and glared at Spike. "Rachel has a two year old nephew with more patience. Dear God will you sit down and cool it. There's nothing we can do, so pull your head out of your ass and sit on it."  
  
"Head or ass?"  
  
"Wes, Angel keeps a stake in his desk right?" Lindsey stood and started walking toward the desk.  
  
"They've got her. They're on their way back." Cordelia walked into Angel's office with a stormy expression on her face.  
  
"Is there something wrong?" Wesley stood and approached her nervously.  
  
"I'm not sure yet." She replied.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Granlar and one of the young warriors had been bound and gagged then dragged out to one the waiting ops vans. Rathlyn and the remaining warrior had been dispatched through the portal along with some of the more rowdy druids. Angel lifted the unconscious girl and was walking with her toward the stairs when he stumbled.  
  
"Gunn, take her." Angel handed Ariane over to him and slid down the wall at his back. His arms and legs felt like lead weights and he had a bad case of the shivers.  
  
"You don't look too good." Gunn commented with a concerned tone as he repositioned Ari's lolling head on his shoulder.  
  
Angel felt weak, like he was sick maybe, but vampires didn't get sick, did they? His arm and shoulder were throbbing where the Myoran's blade had cut him. The penny dropped and he cursed out loud.  
  
"Adams, some help over here." Gunn yelled. All he had caught of Angel's tirade was the word poison. Adams approached and looked down at the now sweat drenched vampire on the floor in front of him.  
  
"I've got you, Sir." He said and pulled on Angel's arm to haul him off of the floor.  
  
"This is humiliating." Angel mumbled as he was almost dragged by Adams and another of the Wolfram & Hart security detail back upstairs and into the back of a waiting van.  
  
A medic set about checking him over and he gave himself over to the ministrations without too much fuss. All that kept running through his head was Ariane. How on Gods green could that be Ariane? Maybe it wasn't, maybe in his current condition he just thought it was Ariane? He began lapsing in and out of consciousness.  
  
"Looks like a basic neurotoxin, Sir. Could be fatal if we don't treat it in time. I'm not sure about a vampire's metabolism, so I can't say how long it will take to travel through his system." The medic informed Adams as they were driving back to the Wolfram & Hart building.  
  
"Put your foot down, Renowski." Adams barked to the man behind the wheel, his scowl deepening.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Gunn preceded the two gurneys along the corridor. Two doctors were prodding Angel and Ariane and speaking in a sub-language somewhere between Latin and English. He could see Cordelia standing, framed on both sides by two of her security guards. She looked stunning, if a little frightening in a beautiful and dark way. He had a fleeting image of her there in thigh high boots and a leather one piece holding a whip.  
  
"Sleep depraved....deprived." He corrected and shook his head, hoping the physical act would rid him of the vision.  
  
"What's wrong with Angel?" She asked. At that second concern for him was her only consideration.  
  
"He got sliced by one of their blade's. Looks like it was glazed with poison. He collapsed just after we found ... the key. It was Ariane, Cordy." Gunn pointed toward the second gurney.  
  
Cordelia paid scant attention to the girl. She had her hands full looking into the sweat soaked face of Angel. He was shivering, his eyes rolling and frantic.  
  
"Is he going to be okay?" She asked the doctor.  
  
"We'll have a better idea when we know what neurotoxin we're dealing with." He said, his tone clipped and professional.  
  
"Stay with him. I'll tell the others." Cordelia all but ordered Gunn. He nodded without question and kept pace with the trolley as it pushed through the doors and into the Medical wing. It wasn't until later he realised that the gurney carrying Ariane didn't follow them.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel woke with a start. The pain in his shoulder was searing.  
  
"How are you feeling?" Fred asked standing by his side looking grave.  
  
"It hurts." He grumbled and tried to turn his head to find out what damage had been done to cause so much pain. Cordelia caught his cheek before he could turn fully. She held his face between her gentle hands and gazed into his warm eyes as though searching for strength.  
  
"Don't look yet, Angel." She whispered, as a tear breached the confines of her own brown eyes. "We had no choice." Once started the flood gates opened and she sobbed.  
  
"No choice but what?" He asked, panic beginning to rise. His head was still trapped between her palms.  
  
"It could have been much worse." Wesley put his hands on Cordelia's shoulders and led her away.  
  
His head finally free of her grasp, Angel turned slowly and he looked at the huge raw stump taking the place of what used to be his arm.  
  
"Turn about is fair play." Lindsey smiled as he cleaned blood from the blade of Gunn's axe.  
  
"Always said you were 'armless." Spike smirked and shared a laugh with Lindsey as they walked away.  
  
Angel could hear screaming and it took him a second to recognise the voice as his own.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Angel .... Angel." Someone was calling his name. Who could be crazy enough to interrupt him at a time like this?  
  
"Angel, you're dreaming." Fred pulled him out of his nightmare with a gentle shake.  
  
"What?" His left arm instantly flew to his right shoulder and he sat up. "It's still there." He sighed with a tremulous smile.  
  
"It was just a scratch." Fred informed him. "What did you think we would do, cut your arm off?"  
  
"Course not, that would be stupid." He replied averting his gaze so she could see the relief on his face. "How long was I out?" He sat up and registered relief when he saw he was in his apartment. He must be okay if they let him sleep off the poison in his own bed.  
  
"You were lucky, there was enough poison in your system to kill an average human. Let's see?" Fred turned away as Angel pulled on a pair of black pants. She looked at her watch and made some mental calculations. "Six hours give or take." She smiled.  
  
"Oh, hell, what did I miss? Where did they take Ari? It was Ariane I saw, right? Or did I dream that part too?" He wandered into the bathroom to clean up.  
  
"No, it was Ari all right. She's being, em, looked after downstairs."  
  
"Is she okay?" Fred's silence was unnerving. "Fred?"  
  
"Cordelia won't let anyone see her." She finally admitted.  
  
"What does Cordy have to do with it?" Angel emerged from his bathroom with a white towel in his hand, drying his face and bare chest. He pulled a dark grey sweater from a drawer and pulled it over his head as he walked toward the elevator.  
  
"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation." Fred attempted to defend her friends actions as she followed him. "I, er, just can't think of one at the moment."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The room was big, bare and blindingly white. There was nothing on three of the walls and only a huge mirror on the fourth to break up the starkness. Ariane turned her still confused head to the side and looked at her reflection.  
  
She was lying on what looked to her like a hospital gurney. She had been on enough of them recently to recognise it. She was wearing the prerequisite voluminous gown, which covered her right down to her ankles. She tried to sit up and couldn't, her wrists and chest were bound to the table.  
  
A man entered the room through an invisible door, which was cut into one of the blank walls. When closed it was seamless. He was wearing a white lab coat and carrying a small steel kidney dish in one hand. Something Ari couldn't see was rattling in it as he walked.  
  
"Ah, you're awake. That's very encouraging." He smiled with his mouth but the effort stopped short of reaching his eyes. He turned away from her and nodded to his reflection.  
  
"Who is behind that?" Ariane asked quietly, fighting to keep her voice calm.  
  
"Just some people who are interested in your safety." Again he placed the deficient smile on his face. He placed the dish on the bed and took out the item that Ari had heard rattling. "We just need another blood sample." He said, producing a small, squat vacutainer, complete with a wicked looking needle on one end. "This won't hurt much."  
  
"Take it out of my leg and it won't hurt at all." She informed him without much humour.  
  
The mans false smile faltered and he glanced around at the mirror again as though looking for instructions.  
  
"Do what you have to do, I won't complain." She looked at him and nodded her ascent.  
  
As the man went about his task, Ari heard the door open again. Heals clicked on the tiled floor and Ari could smell perfume, it was very nice.  
  
"I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to wake up." Cordelia looked down on her, no smile, no expression what so ever.  
  
"I'm sorry I kept you waiting." Ariane replied. There was no hint of sarcasm in her voice.  
  
"Sure you are." Cordelia nodded and gave her a thin humourless smile. "Ariane. I've heard a lot about you."  
  
Ariane said nothing. She thought it best under the circumstances. Cordelia was every bit as beautiful as she had been the night Angel had asked Ari to read her. But there was something hard, a coldness in her attitude that Ariane didn't expect.  
  
"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced."  
  
"No, but we met once before." Ari swallowed and hid her fear. Cordelia was angry, very very angry. "You're Cordelia Chase, one of Angel's closest friends."  
  
"Close doesn't even begin to describe Angel and me." Her tone was wintry enough to freeze hell. The man taking Ariane's blood sample concluded his business and left without a word. He scuttled out of the room grateful to be away from the two women.  
  
A million questions ran around in Ari's head. The most important of them was, had she only imagined seeing Angel? After all the dreams lately and those things kidnapping her she couldn't trust her own judgement. She was too afraid to believe Angel wasn't dead. If she did and then found out he truly was gone it would be like loosing him all over again.  
  
"From all the stories about you I thought you'd be bigger." Cordelia smirked and began a slow circuit of the bed. Ariane followed her with her eyes and tried not to cry.  
  
"Everyone has a story about you, you know. Lorne, Spike, Fred, Gunn, even Harmony. About how you lied and wormed your way in to everyone's good graces. The whole time you were scheming behind their backs to take out Angel. I bet you're just dying to see everyone, aren't you? Play your little mind tricks and make them all believe you had nothing to do with it. Well you can think again. You won't get out of this room until you tell me everything that happened. I want to know how it was planned, how you contacted your employer, everything."  
  
Again Ariane said nothing. This time it wasn't because she thought it most prudent, she simply didn't know what to say. How could she prove that she didn't know what was going on until it was too late? She couldn't because on some level she had known. Not what Meenotuk and Savage had planned but what she was doing to them. She couldn't, no, not couldn't. She wouldn't try to justify what she had done to Angel and the others. This was the time for her to accept responsibility. She had known this day would come eventually.  
  
"Silence suggests guilt." Cordelia halted and leaned menacingly over the bed, her nose less than a centimetre from Ariane's.  
  
"I am guilty." Ariane whispered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Angel where are you going?" Fred was trotting to keep up with him as he strode down the corridor at a hectic pace.  
  
"Medical." He would have thought that was obvious. Where else would he go?  
  
"But ... why?"  
  
"I need to see her." He replied.  
  
"Cordelia?"  
  
"Ariane."  
  
"Ariane's not in medical, Angel." Fred halted and caught her breath.  
  
"I don't get it? Where else would she be?" He turned to look at Fred, his face a picture of confusion.  
  
"Cordelia had her taken directly to the interrogation suite." Fred didn't want to be the one who passed on this piece of information, but as usual when things weren't as they should be she was the one to give the bad news.  
  
"Why the hell would she...?" Angel could see the look on Fred's face and decided there was no point in asking her. He needed to ask Cordelia. He took as deep breath and headed back down the corridor the way he had come. "Go home, Fred. I'll call you if I need you." He told her as he passed.  
  
"Gladly." She thought to herself. This was one time she didn't want to be around to see the fireworks.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You admit it?" Cordelia was taken aback. She couldn't believe anyone would be stupid enough to cop to the whole thing.  
  
"Yes." Came the simple reply.  
  
"Give me one good reason not to kill you?" This should be good, she thought.  
  
"I have none. If you want to kill me, do it. You're not the first to want me dead." Ariane closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Her back was beginning to spasm. She wasn't surprised with the battering it had taken. She was more surprised it had taken this long to start.  
  
"Speaks volumes." Cordy scoffed. "Time to re-think your life?"  
  
"Do I have time?" Ariane twisted and her hands tightened into fists. This was going to hurt, a lot.  
  
"Don't tempt me." Cordy warned then noticed the strain lines on the girls' face. "Are you okay?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Can you answer a question just once, and stop wriggling. You're not going to get out of those restraints." Cordelia looked toward the mirror and motioned for someone behind the glass to get in here, quickly.  
  
Ariane had gone an alarming shade of grey, her breathing was shallow and her nails had cut into her palms so hard they were bleeding.  
  
A doctor and nurse ran into the room the doctor smiling with a look of mild curiosity on his face. "It looks like a seizure of some sort." He informed Cordy who was looking on in horror.  
  
Before the doctor could complete his examination, Cordelia's cell phone rang. She jumped at the sound and then shook her head, laughing nervously.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Cordy, where are you?" It was Angel. First of all she was relived he was awake, then she registered the cold tone of his voice.  
  
"You're awake, are you feeling better?" She asked innocently, pretty sure why he was calling. "Something wrong?"  
  
"I want to see Ariane." Angel barked. From somewhere close by Cordelia heard Spikes voice.  
  
"There's a queue, dickhead." Cordy couldn't help but smile. The only problem was, if Angel was with Spike that meant he was right outside. She placed her hand over the mike of her phone and spoke to the doctor.  
  
"Do what ever you have to." She whispered and made for the door.  
  
"I can't do anything for her here. We're going to have to move her." Cordelia nodded reluctantly and held the door open as the two wheeled the still spasm twisted Ariane out into the corridor.  
  
"It ... passes." Ariane tried to explain though it was hard for her to breathe and the pain was as intense as she could remember it.  
  
"Just relax." The nurse at her side cooed sweetly.  
  
"I would if I could." Ariane thought. Though her eyes were narrowed to mere slits she still managed to see Spike as she was wheeled though the corridor.  
  
"Bloody hell, look at her. Tell me you killed them, Angel?" Spike said.  
  
"No, but there's still time." She heard his deep smooth voice reply. Her heart leapt at the sound.  
  
"He's alive."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What the hell were you thinking, you daft cow?" Spike yelled at Cordelia across the examination room.  
  
"I'm looking after the safety of everyone in this building. That's what I was thinking." Cordelia spat back.  
  
"That's enough." Angel barked and glared at both of them. He couldn't take his eyes from the struggling figure of Ariane on the bed. She was dreadfully pale and tears were streaming from her closed eyes. Why the hell wasn't the doctor giving her something for the pain?  
  
"Yes it is, quite enough." The doctor looked sternly around the room at all of them in turn. "This is neither the time nor the place to have a disagreement. If you must do it, take it elsewhere."  
  
Ariane lay on the bed with the nurse at her side. She could hear everything but was unable to speak in Cordelia's defence. Cordy was right, she was a danger to everyone here. Even Lord Meenotuk knew that. The nurse held an oxygen mask to Ari's face and before she could turn away she had taken a swift breath. Yes there was some relief but she couldn't let them do that.  
  
"Sorry Doc." Spike muttered, apologising for his outburst. No one was more surprised than Angel. "What's wrong with her?"  
  
"I can't carry out a complete assessment until the spasms subside." He was holding a hypodermic full of clear liquid and he approached Ariane. "This will help you to relax. Don't worry, it'll stop hurting soon."  
  
"Please ... don't. I ... can't." The nurse was still covering her mouth with the mask and her words were muffled beyond comprehension. When eventually the mask was removed it was too late. The drug had already been administered.  
  
"Have to leave." She gasped. "Can't stay here."  
  
"We're not going anywhere. Sparky." Lorne came to her side and patted her hand giving her a teary smile.  
  
"No, please."  
  
"Starfish, I'm not letting you out of my sight." He chided.  
  
"The drugs." She tried again. "Can't control it ... with the drugs."  
  
"Oh, hell." Spike replied when the penny finally dropped. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Wesley sat at the table with his hands clasped before him, the knuckles white with strain, though his features displayed none. He remained very still, quietly appraising the Myoran who sat opposite him. He stared into a void and let the merest hint of a smile touch his lips as he waited for the man to process his situation. The room they sat in was an exact replica of the one where Ariane was being held. Granlar was sitting facing Wesley across a short metal table, behind him the expanse of mirror showed Granlar his own snarling refection.  
  
Wesley had considered two methods of "questioning". The first he dismissed out of hand. Warriors were trained to withstand high levels of torture, and if truth were told he really didn't have the stomach for it. He chose to work on a psychological level. Hoping that the soldier was either too dense to see his approach for what it was, or was clever enough to accept the questioning as the more agreeable option. Whichever way this man took it, Wesley was not going to rest until he had the answers he wanted.  
  
"I must say, your legend is colourful and descriptive but it is sadly lacking in detail. Is the portal itself a time altering device or does it just give the user the capability of entering a dimension at a specific period of their choosing?" Wesley was not in the least bit interested in what this man had to say about the portal. It was his guess that the warrior would know little of its function, and would care even less. Still he had to get him talking somehow.  
  
"I have limited patience. I would advise against testing it much farther." He hoped Gunn was having more luck with the other one.  
  
"Your King is a coward if he resorts to using a defenceless female and a portal to end his war." He tried another direction, this one slightly more aggressive.  
  
"Where I come from a man's tongue is cut from his head for speaking such treason." Granlar growled.  
  
Wesley smiled, at last a break through. Perhaps not much, but at least he had spoken. "You are far from home, things are very different here. We can speak freely. As can you."  
  
"I will tell you nothing."  
  
Wesley ignored his outburst and lounged back in his chair with practiced detachment. "Let's suppose King Myor had used this key to open the portal?" He mused aloud. "Then what? He returns like a thief in the night to kill his rival in his sleep? Or perhaps he returns and kills Quinthar's mother before he is even born? Where would that leave you? You are a warrior. You have probably been fighting your entire life for your King and his stupid pride. All your sacrifices and the sacrifices of everyone who went before you would be forgotten in the blink of an eye. Altering history is a complicated enterprise." Wesley waited and watched as the reality of his comments penetrated. He was surprised by the swiftness of his counterpart's reply.  
  
"It is not cowardice as you so thoughtlessly assume, it is the desperate act of a dying man. I am a warrior and yes my King has seen fit to use the portal as his means of gaining peace for his people. I have lived long enough to learn that my needs are of no consequence. I trust in the judgement of my Sovereign and will go to my grave with his orders clear in my head." Granlar spoke with pride and conviction, Wesley was struck by his loyalty.  
  
"Loyalty is a commendable quality. Still I wonder how things would seem if the girl had been your daughter and one of us had taken her to be sacrificed for some ridiculous task? You are a man of action and men like yourself have little tolerance for the needless loss of life."  
  
"The end of our war is far from needless." Granlar growled and he too relaxed back in his chair.  
  
"The key is ours, how do you think your Myor will end his fight without her?"  
  
"I will not try to reason out my King's next move like a game of chance. I have faith in his rule and know he will do what he feels is best for his people."  
  
"Indeed." Wesley nodded wisely. "Perhaps he will search for another such key to do his bidding?"  
  
"There is no other key, and there is no time to search for one." Wesley assumed that Granlar had slipped and told him more than he had planned. Granlar had told Wesley exactly what he wanted him to know. In either case the statement was fact.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel said nothing as Spike and Cordelia glared at each other from opposite sides of the room. He simply scowled, pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialled a number.  
  
"What does she mean, can't control it?" Cordelia asked shifting her eyes from one demon to another.  
  
"Her powers. She means she can't control them while she's drugged." Lorne squeezed Ari's hand as though looking for confirmation. She squeezed back and nodded once.  
  
"Then what's the big deal?" Cordelia still couldn't understand.  
  
"The big deal, your high and mighty, is when she was here before she just let a few things slip. Little bits, like passing on some of her happiness when you were feeling crap. This time she's not holding back, it's all or nothing. And that girl don't look happy this time." Spike pointed to Ariane his eyes still fixed on Cordelia.  
  
Angel was muttering to someone on his phone but interrupted his conversation just long enough to add a comment of his own. "You might want to get some of your guy's to start clearing the building, we don't know how far this is going to reach."  
  
"Thank the great whoever that it's Saturday and the place is still empty." Lorne kissed Ari's sweat clammy cheek and stroked her hair. "I'll be back as soon as I can, Sunbeam."  
  
Ari was struggling against the drugs, fighting their effects as best she could but it was a hopeless task. She could feel all her hard fought self- discipline melting away leaving a foggy, floating, sleepy sensation in it's place.  
  
"How was I supposed to know she was going to go nuclear?" Cordelia looked around the room again and began to cry and not just a tear or two either. She wiped at her eyes then stared at her wet fingers with surprise and confusion. There was no need for her to be this upset, what was going on?  
  
"Here we go." Spike grabbed Cordy's hand and dragged her toward the door. On the way he noticed both the nurse and doctor were snivelling. He felt a little weepy himself but held it in check. He couldn't let anyone see the big bad with a tear in his eye.  
  
"Spike." Angel stopped him before he could leave. "Keep everyone away from here."  
  
"How come your immune?" Spike asked noticing Angel still sporting his cool as, demeanour.  
  
"The mystics gave me a little help after she was here last time. I guess the senior partners didn't want a repeat performance."  
  
"Typical." Spike sulked as he walked out, wiping an errant tear roughly from his cheek.  
  
Angel folded his cell and dropped it back into his pocket, crossing the room to where Ari lay. The spasms appeared to have subsided and she was lying flat and for the moment, still.  
  
"How are you feeling?" He asked as he stepped into her field of vision. The words sounded lame under the circumstances. He thought of all the movies he'd seen and all the lines he could have used. Hell, they weren't Bogey and Bacall what did it matter?  
  
"Go." She told him, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye to join the others in a pool by her ear.  
  
He said nothing but shook his head and looked at her with confusion in his eyes. Of all the emotions he thought he should be feeling at this moment, he would have taken bets on anger being the most dominant. So why was he so relieved? There was no way it could be her doing, not with everyone else around crying the way they were.  
  
Maybe his anger was just waiting in the wings until he had the chance ask her all the questions he had been tripping over for eight months. He looked down at her and wondered how it was possible for her to look even more vulnerable and fragile than she had the day they met.  
  
Ari lay on the bed feeling the strange tingling coldness of the drug taking its effect. There was so much chattering going on in her head, if she hadn't already been crying her eyes would have been watering. As it was she couldn't think straight. She wasn't sure if her condition was more a result of the drugs they had given her or just being near Angel again, a "living" Angel.  
  
"I thought you were dead, he told me I killed...." She wasn't even sure she was speaking out loud until she heard Angel reply.  
  
"Who, Savage?" He asked and she nodded. "He told you I was dead and you thought it was your fault." This time there was no question, he knew if there was blame to be laid she would accept it. That was as much a part of her as those frank blue eyes that had a habit of playing havoc with his concentration.  
  
"It was my fault." She winced again, the spasms had passed but the pain was still intense.  
  
"You saved me."  
  
"No. I saw you, gone, dust." She was confused, the memories and dreams were twisting in her head until she couldn't keep it straight anymore.  
  
He shook his head and lifted her hand. "Do I feel gone to you?" He placed her hand on his cheek and her fingers brushed the short hair above his ear.  
  
"No." She whispered, her eyes were drooping, closing for longer and longer moments each time she blinked.  
  
"Sleep now, we'll talk later."  
  
"I'm scared." She admitted.  
  
"There's nothing to be sacred of. I won't let anything happen to you."  
  
She shook her head at his misunderstanding. "... You won't be here when ..."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It wasn't half as bad as Angel had anticipated. The whole building wasn't affected, just three floors. Everyone on the 19th to 21st floors were either bawling their eyes out or running around terrified. It seemed Ariane wasn't only upset she was damned near scared stiff too.  
  
The problem was, those that were crying were unable to listen to reason and all the others were hiding. The outcome being, they couldn't clear the floors without sending in personnel, in turn they became "infected" with Ari's feelings. In short it was a nightmare.  
  
Lorne and Wesley, (who had been pulled from his interrogation), were working with the psychics and mystics to contain the problem. They were slowly closing the net and releasing those staff who had become trapped by the descending emotion warp.  
  
It took them two hours to quarantine the Ariane effect to the medical department. By which time the whole gang with the exception of Angel had returned to his office and waited. They sat in silence for sometime before he appeared.  
  
"How is she?" Lorne asked rising to his feet and looking pensive.  
  
"Sleeping." Angel replied looking exhausted himself. "The doc says she'll be out for a while. How was it out here?"  
  
"Anarchy, but we handled it." Wesley sighed. Angel flopped into the sofa at his side and let his head drop back. He closed his eyes and tried not to think.  
  
"What are we going to do about her?" Cordelia asked nervously.  
  
"About HER?" Spike yelled. "What are we going to do about you, you useless bint?"  
  
"Spike, leave her alone." Angel lifted his heavy head and he sat forward.  
  
"Oh, here we go. Angel the hero flies to the defence of his perfect princess." Spike scoffed and shook his head. "Nobody gets to question her decisions, is that it? Ariane has been through hell and what does she do? Take her to see a Doctor? No, cause that would be too bloody obvious. Let's cart her off and interrogate her a bit, that should be fun!"  
  
"I said that's enough." Angel repeated, this time with more conviction.  
  
"I have a responsibility to keep everyone in this building safe." Cordelia attempted to explain.  
  
"Is that a direct quote from the company hand book?" Spike goaded.  
  
"I don't trust her, so I took her to the interrogation suite. I'm not going to lie about it. She worked for people who tried to kill Angel. Did you guy's forget that?"  
  
"She was a slave." Lorne added quietly.  
  
"That didn't exactly hold her back." Cordy fired back at him. "Anyway, she admitted it."  
  
"She what?" Spike glared at her and she shrank slightly, then stood firm.  
  
"Admitted plotting to kill Angel. I knew there was something about her, but she came right out and confessed to the whole thing."  
  
"And you believed her?" Angel asked knowing the answer already.  
  
"Why not?" She shrugged.  
  
"Cordelia, do you honestly think she could control all the people it would have taken to set up something as big as that plot to kill Angel? First there was Meenotuk and most of his household, then Savage and his goons, Skip and Lindsey? Not forgetting all that time she was here and working with us?"  
  
"Working ON you, not WITH you. She was powerful enough to knock out three floors." Cordelia put in, but she had lost much of her confidence.  
  
"Yes, she was, but that was without any restriction. Cordelia, much as I share your uncertainty, I can't believe she was completely to blame."  
  
"Why would she take responsibility for something she didn't do?"  
  
"She wants to be responsible. She needs to take the blame. It's like her way of saying sorry I guess." Angel looked at all of them. Lorne and Spike both nodded their agreement, Gunn and Wesley remained stoic and Cordelia rolled her eyes to the ceiling.  
  
"I don't believe it, she's done it again." She racked a hand through her hair and shook her head. "When are you guy's going stop being won over by some puppy dog eyes and a sob story?"  
  
"Maybe if she'd given me either of those I'd be more likely to believe you. I'm not saying she's innocent Cordy, just that I'd like to wait and at least give her a chance to explain. I think I owe her that much."  
  
"You don't owe her anything. What did she ever do for you except put your life in danger?"  
  
Angel turned and opened his mouth to speak, then stopped. What could he say that would explain what Ari had done for him? How could he tell Cordy that she had knocked the chip off his shoulder that he had been carrying since her coma. That for once, not having any secrets had made him feel free, no matter if it was real or imagined. He couldn't explain, and in a way he didn't want to.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was a further five hours before Ariane emerged from her drug induced unconsciousness. Instead of waking feeling refreshed and alert she felt wrung out and anxious.  
  
Slowly the sounds of the room came to her. Whispered conversation, too quiet for her to distinguish voices. She blinked twice and took a deep breath hoping the act would help wake her still groggy brain. It didn't, she still felt drugged, heavy and slow.  
  
There was a shifting of feet off to her left and she instantly tensed.  
  
"Don't panic, starfish. It's just us old buddies checkin in on you." Lorne was by her side and grinning at her in all his mauve suited brilliance.  
  
She tried to sit up and groaned, there was still some residual pain but she had grown accustomed to that. It was the vertigo like delayed reaction to movement she didn't like.  
  
"Maybe you ought to just lie still for a while." Angel offered joining Lorne.  
  
"I'm thirsty." She licked her dry lips and swallowed.  
  
"I'm on it." Spike collected a tiny paper cup of water from a cooler by the wall and brought it to her.  
  
"The doc didn't say she could ..."  
  
"He didn't say she couldn't either, poof. She's thirsty, a little water ain't going to kill her."  
  
She laughed; it was nothing more than a tired huffing sound but it was a laugh none the less. Again she tried to rise and this time Lorne helped. He tucked his arm behind her shoulders and pulled her into a sitting position. This time the pain was sharper but she smiled her thanks and covered it well.  
  
"Still bickering I see." She looked at Lorne and nodded her head toward the two vampires.  
  
"You know what they say about old dogs." She didn't but she returned his smile anyway. Spike handed her the water and she took it from him, gulping greedily. When the cup was empty she turned to him with a puzzled expression.  
  
"When did you ..? You're not a ghost anymore?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, you kinda missed that part. Got meself recorporialised." He grinned and patted himself on chest to prove his point.  
  
"Congratulations. How?"  
  
"It was when we went to that guy Sav...."  
  
"Spike!" Angel nudged him with a sharp elbow and shook his head.  
  
"What? Oh, right. It just happened, nothing to write home about."  
  
"Mmm." She hummed and looked between the two vampires. "Did I hurt anyone?" She asked anxiously and bit her bottom lip.  
  
"Not hurt exactly. I've don't think I've ever seen that many people cry all at once since the last time Angel sang. No need to ask how you were feeling though." Lorne teased.  
  
"I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do to..."  
  
"We know that." Angel looked down, deep into her eyes. "Is it over, are you back under control?"  
  
"Not completely, not yet." She shook her head and dropped her eyes from his cold gaze.  
  
"Good, sing."  
  
"What?" Spike and Lorne said together.  
  
"I want you to read her." He stated turning his eyes on Lorne and raising his eyebrows in question. "Is that a problem?"  
  
"No, I'll sing if it's what you want." Her voice sounded small and very lonely. She considered for a second then decided on a song Sylvia had soft spot for. It was an old classic she had only ever heard sung in a jazz style but she gave it a shot anyway. She wasn't trying to impress anyone, she was just doing as she was told.  
  
Sure I know you'd like to have me Talk about my future  
  
And a million words or so to fill you in about my past  
  
Have I sisters or a brother  
  
When's my birthday how's my mother  
  
Well my dear in time I'll answer all those things you ask  
  
But for now I'll just say I love you  
  
Nothing more seems important somehow  
  
And tomorrow can wait come whatever  
  
Let me love you forever but right now  
  
Right now  
  
Some fine day when we go walking  
  
We'll take time for idle talking  
  
Sharing every feeling as we watch each other smile  
  
I'll hold your hand you'll hold my hand  
  
We'll say things we never had planned  
  
Then we'll get to know each other in a little while  
  
But for now let me say I love you  
  
Later on there'll be time for so much more  
  
But for now meaning now and forever  
  
Let me kiss you my darling then once more  
  
Once more  
  
But for now let me say I love you  
  
Later on I must know much more of you  
  
But for now here and now how I love you  
  
As you are in my arms I love you  
  
Her voice broke on the last line but she managed to hold herself together enough to get through it. She kept her eyes focused on an empty spot on the floor through the entire song, not trusting herself to look at any of them without loosing it and blubbering like a fool.  
  
Lorne's face was a picture of pity, he looked at the top of her still drooping head and sighed. "Oh, sweetness, it's been a rocky road for you hasn't it."  
  
"What did you see?" Angel asked Lorne when Ariane made no comment.  
  
"I can fill you in any old time, Earth Angel. I think you two need to talk first. Come on Spike-er-oonie lets find a liquor cabinet to raid." Lorne threw his arm around Spike's shoulders and led him grumbling out of the room. He motioned to the attending nurse to give the remaining pair some privacy as he passed.  
  
Angel shoved his hands deep into his pockets and scowled at the floor. Sure they needed to talk, but not right now, not like this. He needed more time to plan, to carefully consider exactly what he was going to say, what he wanted to know.  
  
Ariane said nothing, she waited for Angel to gather his thoughts. She had no right to ask questions even though she had about a million of them. It was obvious from the silence that his thoughts were shielded and she wondered how they had arranged it so quickly. Then again he could have known where she was for any length of time.  
  
Angel's first question split the silence like a falling axe. "Why did you lie?"  
  
Her eyes widened in shock. Lie, when, and to whom? She didn't know how to answer because she didn't understand the question. She searched his face some clue and found nothing, not even a hint. "I'm not sure what you mean." She finally admitted.  
  
"It's not a difficult question, Ariane. You lied to me and I want to know why?"  
  
She racked her memory for a time she had lied and came up empty. Deceived him, yes, that she had done, but lied?  
  
He misunderstood her silence and his temper rose in degrees each second she delayed. "Trying to come up with a credible excuse, or do I have to narrow it down to which lie I'm talking about?"  
  
Ariane swallowed hard trying to keep down her rising panic. She closed her eyes as she felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her. The arm she was leaning on suddenly collapsed under her and she fell back onto the narrow bed with a grunt of pain.  
  
"And you can quit the dying swan act too, I'm not falling for it." Angel walked to the side of the bed so he could look down at her and was surprised by just how grey she looked. "Ari?"  
  
"I'm sorry." She took a deep breath and drew her elbows close in to her sides and dug them deep into the mattress, fighting her way into a more upright position. She pushed herself backward until she was leaning against the back of the bed then sat up a little straighter. "I'm sorry." She said again, a little more out of breath this time.  
  
"Are you sick?"  
  
"No."  
  
"You look sick."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"My welfare is not your concern." Their eyes met and Angel smirked and shook his head.  
  
"That was one of the first things you ever said to me."  
  
"I remember." There was a thin smile on her own lips.  
  
"What was it I said back then?"  
  
"That I should humour you."  
  
"It all seems like a lifetime ago."  
  
"It was." She nodded and relaxed a little.  
  
"What the hell happened, Ariane?" He pulled up a chair and sat with his elbows on his knees.  
  
"I thought I'd gotten you killed."  
  
"Yeah, but before that. I'm damned sure you didn't know what was going on when you got here the day of your offering, so when did you find out about Savages plan?"  
  
"It doesn't matter, it was my fault. I'm willing to accept what ever punishment you deem appropriate."  
  
"God dammit, Ari, it does matter." He yelled and balled his hands into fists. "Maybe it's the only thing that matters. I need to know."  
  
She nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. This was the first time she had ever told this story and she wasn't looking forward to it.  
  
"I had a vision at the party, I saw Meenotuk and the other man laughing. Meenotuk had a marionette in his hand and I saw it was me. I saw the demon and the gun and the blood. I saw you die and when I looked down the gun was in my hand." She unfolded her arms and stared at her hands as though seeing the gun there again and shuddered.  
  
"Why didn't you just tell me that night, before..?"  
  
"Fear, shame, pride, guilt." She rimed them off like a grocery list.  
  
"You were afraid of me?"  
  
"Not of you, I was afraid for you. I had put you in danger, I had weakened you and led you and the others to the place you were in the most peril. I am responsible and I will not try to escape punishment by making hollow excuses."  
  
"I don't call saving my life a hollow excuse."  
  
"It was the only way I could redeem myself."  
  
"You almost got yourself killed."  
  
"It was my sacrifice to make. Better a dead slave than a dead master."  
  
"You were never my slave, Ari."  
  
"On the contrary, Angel. I still am."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Did you think I had forgotten you? I kind of like these at the end rather than the start, I hope you don't mind.  
  
Imzadi: I'm working on the Lindsey and Rachel part. It should be ready soon.  
  
Celtic Cat: You are just going to have to wait like everyone else. I hope the above gave you some of the answers you were looking for.  
  
Lilithangel: I'm working as fast as I can but I'll try harder.  
  
The others: Are you still hanging around? I must be doing something right then.  
  
Review, please. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

"Yes, officer. I am listening, are you listening to me?" Paul clutched the telephone and all but yelled into the mouth piece. He was speaking as slowly and clearly as he could. "I understand in similar cases the procedure requires you to wait 24 hours before accepting a report, but these are not normal circumstances." Paul couldn't contain his anger any longer and bellowed the last two words loud enough to make his wife jump.  
  
"Why is Daddy yelling?" Jamie climbed onto Sylvia's knee and she hugged him, as much for her benefit as his.  
  
"It's nothing for you to worry about, darling." She nuzzled close to his head. Her lips brushing his baby soft hair and she could smell his shampoo.  
  
"Is this about Annie? She's not with the monsters any more Mommy, should I tell Daddy so he can stop being mad at the man on the phone?" Jamie tried to wriggle out of Sylvia's grasp and she hugged him tighter.  
  
"No, Jamie, don't interrupt Daddy while he's talking." She looked into his sweet, innocent face and cupped his cheek in her hand.  
  
"Ann's gone home , Mommy." He nodded.  
  
"Ann didn't come home last night, Jamie." Sylvia shook her head and tried to keep the concern out of her voice, she didn't want to worry him. "But I'm sure everything is fine." She added what she thought was a reassuring smile.  
  
"... No, I don't think she just decided to go on to another club." Paul yelled again and turned his back when he noticed Jamie's presence.  
  
Sylvia stood with Jamie still in her arms and started for the door. Her husband arguing with the police wasn't something she felt her son should hear. They had only just explained that the police were there to help people in trouble.  
  
Rob burst in as she approached the door and she ushered him out into the hall with her. She could tell by his expression that he and Jeff still hadn't had any luck finding Ann on their own. They had been driving around the streets since just after dawn. He shook his head in answer to her unvoiced question.  
  
They both turned when they heard Paul slam down the receiver. They both walked back into the room to find out what had happened.  
  
"They're refusing to help until she's been missing for 24 hours." Paul stated looking furious.  
  
"Annie's okay Daddy." Jamie grinned at his father and wriggled until Sylvia put him on the floor.  
  
"Sure she is, Kiddo. I'll just feel better when I know where she is." He knelt down in front of his son and ruffled his hair.  
  
"I know where she is. Annie's angel came and saved her. She's with him now." Jamie ruffled Paul's hair and copied his look almost exactly.  
  
"Angel, what angel?" Rob was the next to approach Jamie and squat beside him.  
  
"Jamie says Ann had her own angel and he visits her at night." Sylvia couldn't understand why Rob was looking at her son so seriously. "It's just a little boy's romantic notion."  
  
"Is it?" Hey, Jamie, come show me where your Mom hides the chocolate." Rob stood and held out his hand to Jamie who grabbed it enthusiastically and pulled Rob to the kitchen.  
  
"Do you think someone has taken her to hold for ransom?" Sylvia asked Paul after the two boy's had left the room.  
  
Paul shook his head. "I doubt it. We would have heard from them by now."  
  
"Then she could already be dead." She whispered.  
  
"Syl, don't even think that way." He pulled her into his arms, not wanting her to see he was thinking the same thing.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We never did see eye to eye on the subject of your status here." Angel conceded and smiled again. "How did you make it out of the car alive?"  
  
"I saw the bomb go off." Ariane stated simply, still the queen of understatement.  
  
"Another vision? Saving your own life? I better watch out or you'll put me out of a job."  
  
"It wasn't my life, it was the driver. I only see myself in visions if I'm involved with someone else's destiny. Believe me, you're job's safe."  
  
"You didn't know about the Myoran's? Cordy had a vision of you being abducted, that's how we found you."  
  
She shook her head and smiled gently at him, "It must be nice to have her home?" Ariane expertly changed the subject. She didn't want to talk about those things and what they had wanted with her. There were past issues which needed to be addressed first.  
  
"Yeah, it is. She came out of her coma the day you ... This is too weird." Angel stood up and began pacing around. Ariane watched his every move closely, rediscovering him with a hunger that was frightening. "It was like we lost you and got Cordy back in the same day. In a way I figured it was some screwed up trade off with the powers that be, then you turn up here. What am I supposed to do with that?"  
  
"Nothing?" She wrinkled her nose and shrugged wondering why he was complicating things by over thinking them. "It couldn't just be coincidence? Must everything have a reason?" She looked furtively around the room but Angel didn't notice.  
  
"Stuff doesn't seem to happen to me without they're being a hidden motive behind it." He informed her still pacing with his arms folded over his chest.  
  
"I can't imagine it would be anything significant. Perhaps these powers saw you suffering and wanted to give you comfort?" She didn't add that his comment was a tad conceited too.  
  
"They're not big into comfort, it's not high on their list of priorities."  
  
Typical Ariane always looking for the good in people, he thought. Then again comfort was always high on Ari's list.  
  
"Did you have anything to do with Cordy coming back?" He asked pointedly.  
  
"Me? How could I have.." She struggled to look convincing but came up short as usual.  
  
"Ariane?" He warned, flashing her a look that read "danger" in foot high red letters.  
  
"I never was very good at lying." Angel's eyes widened in astonishment and she blushed. "I was between dimensions for a time and I took a chance. Cordelia was already on her way back so I gave her a push in the right direction. She won't remember any of it."  
  
"How? Why?" He stammered.  
  
"For you." She replied simply and shrugged again as though what she had done was no big deal.  
  
Angel's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Even though you thought I was dead?" Had she slipped up?  
  
"I didn't know..." She swallowed hard and continued, there was fear in her eyes but not for the reason Angel assumed. "I wasn't told you were dead until later. I was only interested in making you happy."  
  
"Or was it just another diversion?" He fumed.  
  
"No." She responded, her head dropping again and tears springing to her eyes. "How could I even hope for his trust after all I have done?" She thought and the tears dropped silently to spatter on her folded hands.  
  
"When did you find time to make such a magnanimous gesture?" His voice had turned cold again and she scratched at her right shoulder nervously. It had become a habit when she was feeling threatened.  
  
"I'm not sure when, I wasn't really capable of keeping track of time." Her head was still bowed and her voice sounded thick and choked.  
  
"That's convenient." He spat, unfazed by her tears.  
  
"It wasn't, but I can understand why you might see it that way." She shifted on the pillows and scratched again.  
  
"Don't dare patronise me." Angel hissed and his eyes blazed.  
  
This time her head rose and her expressive blue eyes were filled by a look which displayed her wounded heart. Even in her nightmares she had never imagined Angel being so furious, or so disappointed. Strangely it was the disappointment which hurt her most of all. She wanted his anger, in a way it made her feel better, cleaner somehow. His bitterness however burned into her like acid.  
  
"Are you ever going to tell me truth?" Angel asked, his eyes searching her face for some sign of hope.  
  
"I will tell you everything I know, still I may lack the answers you desire."  
  
"How can I trust you?" He fired back her own question and she shook her head, causing more tears to shake loose.  
  
"I can see no way for that to be possible, not after what I've done." She had to stop herself from sobbing, she had to be strong and accept his judgment with as much dignity as possible.  
  
"Spare me the melodramatic surrender, Ariane. I can't seem to give much of a damn how you feel right now." That was a lie, he wanted her to hurt. He wanted her to feel just as bad as he did. Little did he know she felt a hundred times worse than he could ever conceive.  
  
"I have no right to ask anything of you, Angel." She almost whispered, "but could I wash and dress before you continue?" For some inexplicable reason she didn't want to carry on the rest of this conversation as she was. She felt far too exposed and vulnerable, lying in a bed where she looked pitiable. She wanted to at least look like she was strong enough to stand trial. Even if it was only another illusion.  
  
"Need time to prepare?" He questioned, his tone clipped and filled by anger and frustration. He thought of all the times that he had tried to justify Ari's actions. All the ways he had turned it trying to make the pieces fit so that she came out innocent. "What a waste of time." He scolded himself.  
  
"I've been thinking about this for eight months. What difference will a few more minutes make?"  
  
"Just so you know, there's no point trying to run. If we don't find you, the Myoran's will."  
  
"Why would I try?" She asked honestly amazed. How many times did she have to tell him she was willing to accept responsibility for what she had done? That acceptance included any punishment and by the look of Angel now that punishment would be substantial, if not lethal.  
  
"Bathroom's over there." He pointed off to his right and she nodded her thanks. "I'll go an arrange for some clothes." He walked out of the door without a backward glance.  
  
On the other side of the doorway he bumped into the doctor who was apparently returning to check on his patient.  
  
"I'd like to give her a more thorough examination if that's okay with you?" The man explained. He grinning with false sincerity and his eyes continually flitted to and from the door. It seemed to Angel that he didn't want to be alone with Ari.  
  
"Whatever." Angel replied, about turning and pushing open the room door. He wanted to know if she was physically strong enough to endure the level of questioning he now had planned anyway, the clothes could wait.  
  
Ariane was sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to the door. The hospital gown she wore was tied at the back of her neck but the lower ties appeared to have worked themselves loose and the edges were gaping open.  
  
Angel's eyes went wide and his jaw loosened when he saw the scarring on Ari's back. His anger was, for the moment, replaced by a feeling of creeping dread in the pit of his stomach. In all his rage he had totally disregarded the actual shooting itself. He was too preoccupied with laying blame to think about what those six bullets must have done to her.  
  
Low down on her back there was a fist sized wound, a vivid red against the rest of her pale skin. Travelling upwards from that was a long thin line following the ridges of her spine. By its neatness and precision it was obviously a surgery scar. Then there was the overlay of bruises, to Angel they looked like army camouflage.  
  
Ariane was contemplating just how she was going to make it into the bathroom when she heard the door open again. She turned in time to see Angel's expression as he surveyed her appearance. Unfortunately she was too close to the edge and had turned too far. Within seconds she slid from the bed.  
  
She heard her feet make an odd slapping sound as they hit the floor and her legs collapsed under her. She landed in a crumpled heap on the cold tiles. She had made an attempt to save herself by clutching at the bed sheet, but it had pulled from the mattress and joined her on the floor.  
  
It took only moments for Angel to reach her side but she had covered her face with the white fabric and underneath was earnestly praying for the earth to swallow her.  
  
"Ariane?" She heard his voice through the thin cover.  
  
"Mmm?" Was her muffled reply. She felt him tugging at the sheet and let it go. He stared down at her and she closed her eyes blocking out his concerned and questioning stare.  
  
"What are you doing on the floor?"  
  
"I like the view." She replied sarcastically, the words slipped out before she could stop them.  
  
"Huh?" He couldn't tell if she was serious or not and his sense of humour was at that moment, sadly lacking if not completely absent.  
  
He didn't want to touch her, he didn't know where to touch her in fear of hurting her. He had a fleeting feeling of déjà vu and mentally shook himself out of it. Ariane saw him appraising her predicament and smiled the tiniest bit. He watched as she pushed herself into a sitting position and rested on one arm.  
  
"Could you help me up?" She asked reluctantly, managing to look everywhere but at him.  
  
Without comment he tucked his arms under her legs and around her shoulders then lifted her back onto the bed.  
  
"Would I be stupid to think you'd believe me if I told you it was the drugs?" It was her futile attempt to cover the truth. Though it was obvious he would have found out sooner rather than later, Ariane would have preferred later and she wished it hadn't been so graphic a demonstration.  
  
Angel shook his head and scowled, he knew what ever was coming he wasn't going to like it. "You are sick, aren't you?" He asked fearful of her reply  
  
"No, I'm not sick." She insisted softly but would say nothing more.  
  
Without a word to either of them the doctor began checking Ari over and Angel took a step back to give him room to work. Angel remained silent but his eyes bore into Ari throughout the doctors examination and he didn't like what he saw.  
  
She allowed the man to perform his task without comment until he began prodding at the "healed" wound on her back. She could stand the pain she was in, it wasn't much worse than normal, but when anyone touched her there it was like being pierced by red hot spears. She endured it as long as she could but eventually she could take no more.  
  
Before she could voice her objections Angel stepped in and did it for her. "Have you got what you came for?" He asked sternly, shocking the doctor who jabbed harder in response. Ariane bit down hard and tried to twist out of the doctors grasp.  
  
"I'm sorry I didn't realise you could feel that. It looks like a T10 or 11, is it complete?" He asked Ari.  
  
"It's a T12 and yes it is complete." She informed him, her voice emotionless.  
  
"What's a T12?" Angel asked, they were speaking in a language he didn't understand and there was all together too much going on that he didn't understand already.  
  
"It's your 12th thoracic vertebrae, located right here." Again the doctor prodded Ariane with a stiff finger; she hissed and winced but said nothing.  
  
"A complete severing of the spinal column at this level would indicate a loss of all motor and sensory capability. In layman's terms that would mean the individual would be totally paralysed below the site of the trauma." He smiled tactlessly and looked to Ariane to confirm or deny his diagnosis. Ariane couldn't lift her head, she didn't have the courage to meet Angel's eyes.  
  
"You don't deal with live patients often do you?" Angel enquired and sneered at the doctor who looked back apprehensively. "I swear if you touch her again I'm going to let you know what a T12 feels like first hand."  
  
The man made some mewling sounds in the back of his throat and scurried out of the door. Angel watched him leave then stood in awkward silence before opening his mouth to speak.  
  
"Please don't." Ariane pleaded before he could say a word.  
  
"Don't what?"  
  
"Apologise." She answered.  
  
"Why didn't you just tell me? If I'd known I wouldn't have..." He let the sentence trail off, he didn't know how to finish.  
  
"Wouldn't have what? Blamed me? Been honest with me? Why does the fact that my legs don't work have to change anything?" She spoke curtly, almost daring to scold him.  
  
"I didn't mean that I wouldn't have been honest and it does change things."  
  
"Such as what exactly?" She continued without giving him time to answer. "How do you know my condition has anything to do with you? It could have happened at anytime." She didn't want this. She didn't want him to be blinded by misplaced pity and forget what she had done. "Why did he have to learn this now?" She yelled in her head.  
  
"But it didn't, did it? They're bullet wounds on your back, aren't they?" His eyes burned into her and she didn't have to answer for him to know he was right.  
  
"It changes nothing." She repeated.  
  
"You can't believe that. You're..." The word stuck in his throat and he had to force himself to say it. "You're paralysed because you saved me."  
  
"I don't regret my decision." She kept her voice even and this time made sure she met his eyes. She wanted him to read her honesty, to see she wasn't troubled by the choice she had made.  
  
"But... I don't know what to think." She watched as he fought an internal war and felt a wave of sympathy for him. "There's no way you would have accepted this if you were in on the deal with Meenotuk and Savage." He finished.  
  
"Are you so sure of that?"  
  
"I'm damned sure no one who had wanted to kill me would let themselves be crippled of their own free will." He was close to yelling again and had to restrain himself from punching the wall in frustration. "How can she be so damned calm?" He wondered.  
  
"I have never been free, but my will is my own. I was ready to accept death to save you, Angel. For the past eight months I thought living was my punishment for failing you. I didn't think to question the fact that you were dead. I was too prepared to accept that I had allowed you to die."  
  
"Tell me you didn't know what they were planning? Swear to me you found out that night, the night we got shot?" Angel took her by the shoulders and bent down until he was level with her eyes. "Tell me right now and I'll believe you."  
  
"I swear it on my soul, Angel." She answered.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
King Myor was livid. His impending death seemed to have had no effect what so ever on his vicious temper.  
  
"Where is Granlar?" He barked and glared at Snort who was quivering in a darkened corner by the door.  
  
"He and an Entart were captured during the commotion, Lord." Snort replied his voice also tremulous.  
  
"And Rathlyn, what of him?"  
  
"He is with the surgeon, your Majesty."  
  
"Do we know the identity of these men?"  
  
"We have seen one of them before, Sire. He is from the demon law firm Wolfram & Hart. I have initiated a search to locate Granlar and the Key but if they are being held within the lawyers fortress it will be impossible to free him without incurring heavy casualties, Great Sovereign."  
  
"A frontal assault would be costly and useless." The King murmured, contemplating their limited options. How could they return both his men and the Key without waging an all out attack on a foe with superior firepower and skill? "Out manned and out gunned." He mused aloud.  
  
"Majesty?" Snort wondered if the King had slipped into one of his fugues but when his old eyes swung round to focus on him, Snort knew otherwise.  
  
"This situation requires stealth and cunning."  
  
"Shall I call for Rathlyn, my lord?" Snort enquired.  
  
"Bah, Rathlyn has all the cunning of gutted hog." He cursed. "Granlar could come up with something, failing that I think Thessimus could formulate a inventive scheme. Bring him to me and keep that oaf Rathlyn from my sight or I may choose to have him beheaded for the entertainment."  
  
Snort bowed his way out of the Kings chamber and clutched at the neck of his robe in fear. There were few Myoran's he was truly afraid of; their lack of intellect made them transparent. Thessimus on the other hand was far from stupid; he was the worst kind of Warrior. He could find the chink in any suit of armour, real or symbolic. Everyone had their weak spot and Thessimus could sniff it out no matter how well hidden it was.  
  
Snort crept down the dim corridor and steadied himself for a dubious encounter.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia all sat around Angel's desk and listened silently to what the man on the speaker phone had to say.  
  
"He's going to kick up merry hell if I put him off again." It was Lieutenant Rice, Gunn's contact at the 39th precinct.  
  
"Just hold him off for another couple of hours." Gunn replied and heard the man sigh.  
  
"In a couple of hours the press are going to publish the pictures of the crime scene. What am I going to tell him then, that they got there first?" Rice yelled.  
  
"Okay, fine, I'll deal with it." It was Gunn's turn to sigh. What he wanted was a shower and a long sleep in a comfortable bed. What he was going to get was aggro from an Italian business man.  
  
"What are you going to tell him?" Rice asked and waited. Cordy and Wes both added their own raised eyebrows, echoing his question.  
  
"None of your damned business. Now make sure no one looks too far into this, do you hear me, Rice?" Gunn leaned on the desk and spoke clearly into the mike.  
  
"Loud and clear, Councillor." The policeman stated before hanging up.  
  
"What are you going to tell him?" Cordy asked crossing her legs and lounging back further in the chair.  
  
"I'm going to tell him she's in witness protection." Gunn replied and ran a hand over his head, he felt the start of a headache coming on.  
  
"Is that something we would be able to do, legally I mean?" Wesley enquired.  
  
"Legally no, but you got a better idea, English?" He snipped and Wesley looked back, a little wounded. "Hey I'm sorry man. I'm tired and its the best can come up with. We should be able to carry it off if Nardino doesn't ask too many questions."  
  
"And if he does?" Cordy asked.  
  
"I'll send a tactical team out to blow up his house." Gunn replied and laughed a little hysterically.  
  
Cordy and Wes looked at each other and Wesley coughed nervously.  
  
"Perhaps Lindsey could call Mr Nardino?" He offered hoping Gunn would take him up on the offer and not be offended.  
  
"He's gone home. He's picking Rachel up at the airport in a few hours." Gunn shook his head and picked up the telephone. "Looks like it's up to me."  
  
He dialled a number and listened as it rang.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Get you two." Lorne beamed bursting into the room with his usual energetic style and grinning from ear to ear. "Are we all chummy again?"  
  
"Well..." Ariane began.  
  
"We're working on it." Angel finished for her, winked and gave her a weak apologetic smile.  
  
"Good enough." Lorne clapped his hands together. "We've got something for you, sweet thing." He continued and opened the door wide. Spike strolled in pushing a wheelchair and whistling tunelessly.  
  
"How the hell did you two know about that?" Angel stormed and glared at Ari. "Did you..?"  
  
"Before you blow your top, Tubby, the cab driver blabbed to me and the demon got it Technicolor and surround sound direct from the horses mind, so to speak. Your chariot awaits." He smirked and pushed Angel out of the way then lifted Ari from the bed and deposited her into the chair before she could stop him.  
  
"I'm guessing you'd like to get out of that thing too and into some decent clothes?" Lorne plucked at the outsized gown and wrinkled his nose. "I kept some of your clothes, I just didn't have the heart to send them to the good will." He snatched a bag from outside the door and walked toward the bathroom swinging it at his side.  
  
"I think I'd rather handle this part on my own if that's okay?" She looked at all three of the men in turn and dropped her head, embarrassed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thessimus stood in front of a large tapestry in the Kings bedchamber and contemplated the situation placed before him. He had been entrusted with the task of formulating a scheme to retrieve the Key from a highly organised foe.  
  
Snort was, at this very moment, arranging for maps and any other facts regarding the matter he could lay his hands on. Thessimus had specifically requested information on the Key herself and where they had found her.  
  
"What think you, Thessimus, can it be done?" The King grumbled from the bed.  
  
"I believe nothing is impossible, Sire. Given adequate time I can supply you with a workable proposal." He turned from the wall, his sly eyes taking in the monarch's ashy complexion and laboured breathing. "I think time is something we do not have." He thought.  
  
"We can not delay, Thessimus. Granlar must return with the Key, I can not stress enough the gravity of this situation."  
  
"I will have a plan for you by sunrise, your Majesty." Thessimus replied and bowed, in truth it was more of a nod than a bow. He left the room and went in search of Snort. He needed all the information he could get and he needed it now.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Ariane washed and changed as quickly as she could, which wasn't an easy task. Her days of getting to and from the bathroom during the commercial break were long gone.  
  
She emerged from the room warily, hoping that the men had chosen to return to Angel's office but no such luck. Spike sat swinging his legs from the edge of the bed, Lorne had taken up residence in the chair and Angel stood leaning against the wall beside the door.  
  
"Feel better, Tinkerbell?" Lorne enquired.  
  
She nodded and expertly wheeled further into the room. Angel couldn't keep the look of sympathy from his eyes and he tried to disguise it behind a cough. Spike, as usual, spoke his mind.  
  
"If you ask me I'd have let the lawyer dust the poof. It sure as hell wasn't worth the price you've paid." He stated and leapt from the bed.  
  
"Much as I appreciate the thought, Spike, I wish you'd keep your smart assed comments to yourself." Angel drawled and pushed himself from the wall.  
  
"I believe he was worth it." Ari whispered and dropped her eyes.  
  
"Well, if you think so that's all the matters, and I tend to agree with you, Sugar Cube" Lorne stated diplomatically. "Now what are we hanging around this depressing place for?"  
  
"Nothing as far as I can see. Nobody sick here is there? 'Cept the wanker over there." Spike smirked and took hold of Ari's chair and shot out of the room and down the corridor toward the elevators.  
  
"Angel's sick?" Ari asked her face taking on a worried expression and glancing around at Angel for some evidence.  
  
"Nothin' a stake couldn't fix, luv."  
  
"You really will have to make your jokes more obvious, Spike." She frowned. "Where are we going?"  
  
"My place." Angel replied reaching for the button on the wall.  
  
"Angel's office it is. I'll race you up stairs, Ari." Spike kidded.  
  
"How much of a head start to I get?" She asked.  
  
"Ooh, someone really is feeling better." Lorne grinned and nudged Ari's shoulder.  
  
"A girl goes 18 years without sarcasm then she spends four weeks with Spike and she's ruined."  
  
"It was 18 years with Lord Meenotuk that ruined me. Spike just re-educated me in some of the finer points of wit."  
  
"Wit and Spike, two words you don't often hear in the same sentence."  
  
"Angel's a prick. Three words I don't hear often enough."  
  
"You're disgusting." Angel parried  
  
"Thanks." Spike flashed him a toothy smile in response.  
  
"I missed this." Ariane admitted and smiled openly for the first time since she had returned.  
  
"I missed that." Angel thought to himself.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Celtic Cat: Angel's talents definitely don't stretch to singing, but I think I could overlook that since he makes up for it everywhere else.  
  
Imzadi: Very sorry Lindsey and Rachel didn't make an appearance this chapter but I promise I'll make it up to you soon. BTW, I read your fic the other day, why did you stop writing?  
  
Lilithangel: I have no intention of stopping. I've invested too much time to give up now but thanks for the encouragement, that keeps me going.  
  
Clicka: Welcome aboard the psycho express. Thanks for sticking with it, 12 chapters all in one shot is a lot to trawl through. The fact that you did it when you could have been sampling the Irish high life is an even bigger compliment. How are things on the emerald isle? 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Angel, Lorne, Spike and Ariane appeared outside Angel's office moments later and Ariane was struck by an overwhelming attack of what could only be described as the willies. She didn't want to go back into his office, not right now at least. Her problem was she didn't have a good reason not to, besides the overwhelming urge to throw up that was. How could she tell Angel and the others that she wanted to stay in the corridor? They would think she was mad, if they didn't already.  
  
She ran a hand over her braided hair and nervously adjusted the lilac sweater she wore, it was the only part of her appearance she could change. She looked anxious and small in the adult sized wheelchair they had borrowed from the medical department. Her own chair, though not exactly made to measure, was made for adolescents and more in proportion to her size.  
  
This was only the second time she had felt apprehensive about how people would see her. The first time had been leaving the bathroom only moments earlier. It hadn't seemed like a big deal in the hospital and after leaving it, the only people she saw were the Nardino's. No one had known her before the shooting; no one had known her when she could walk. Their pity was a peripheral thing because they had nothing to compare her to. Everyone one on the other side of that door, excluding Cordelia, had known her before she got hurt. They would be expecting the same person to return, but that Ariane was gone, she had died eight months previous. What would they say? After what she had done, would they even care?  
  
She swallowed hard and held her breath as Angel threw both doors wide and Spike "escorted" her in.  
  
Wesley turned at the sound of their entry and did his best to disguise his shocked expression behind a rather feeble nod and smile combo. Cordelia turned, scowled then returned her attention to Gunn who was frowning deeply and talking to someone on the phone.  
  
"Yes, Mr Nardino. I do understand, but keeping our client here will ensure her safety and that of you and your family. I'm sorry, I can't discuss any details regarding the case." Gunn was valiantly trying to convince Paul of the benefits of his fictitious witness protection scenario.  
  
"Paul?" Ari spoke the name, surprised to hear Gunn speaking to him. For some reason it came as less of a surprise to her that they knew whom Paul was. She wondered exactly what story they had invented to cover up the unbelievable truth, but dismissed the question knowing she would find out soon enough. She pulled her chair out of Spike's grasp and headed toward the desk where Gunn stood with his back turned.  
  
"May I talk to him, Charles? Please?" There was just enough force in her voice that Gunn interrupted his conversation and turned toward her.  
  
"Er, could you give me a second, Mr Nardino?" He pressed a button on the phone and held the receiver loosely in his hand. "You look, em, better than you did earlier. What's the deal here, Angel?"  
  
"I don't think it's a good idea, Ari." Angel shook his head and Gunn's free hand stretched toward the phone again.  
  
"I know Paul Nardino, Angel and he won't let this go until he at least talks to me. He may want to see me."  
  
"No." Cordelia replied coldly. She gave Ariane a look of intense superiority in an attempt to confirm her commanding position in Wolfram & Hart and more importantly as one of Angel's most trusted friends. Ariane returned the look without expression. She was in no doubt of Cordelia's value where Angel was concerned. That particular fact had been established long ago and Ari had no reason to believe things had changed.  
  
"I'd advise against it." Gunn agreed.  
  
"We'd have to be very careful." Wesley at least offered some glimmer of hope.  
  
"We're going to have to put a team on the family anyway, Angel. Why not get him down here?" Spike of course was on Ari's side.  
  
"A team?" When the penny dropped that what Spike was referring to was one of Wolfram & Hart's reconnaissance teams she looked wide eyed toward Spike. "Why would they need protection?" She asked and paled considerably.  
  
"We just nicked a key from those nutters, Angel." Spike pointed to Ari whose look of apprehension gave way to confusion. It was a look he chose to ignore and diverted his attention back to Angel. "Do you think they're just gonna walk away? They found her so it's a pretty safe bet they know where she was staying. Where's the first place you would look after she's out?"  
  
"Good point, but the team's been there since I got back here." Angel gave Spike a smug wink as Wesley nodded reluctantly.  
  
"Bet the anaemic dandy spilled his guts the second, poof boy got back from saving the ruddy day." Spike muttered more to himself than anyone else. He shot Wesley a look conveying his considerable wrath. The Englishman did his best to ignore it but he knew there would be consequences sooner or later.  
  
"Key?" Ari was still sporting her puzzled expression but now for a different reason.  
  
"I'll explain later." Angel butted in and nodded to Gunn. "Let her talk to him. If he takes this further things could get sticky with the authorities and I get the feeling we're going to have enough to deal with from the Myoran's."  
  
Ari took a detour around Wesley's chair and held out her hand for the phone Gunn still had grasped in his hand. He shook his head and transferred the call to speaker. For everyone's sake it was best to take no chances this time. Everything was going to be out in the open right from the get go. Gunn was working on the theory, no secrets equalled no surprises.  
  
"Hello Paul." In light of the situation, Ari's voice was incredibly even and controlled but Angel could hear her heart slamming like all fury in her chest. Still, she made it look good. Well, sound good.  
  
"Anne? Are you okay?" Ari could imagine the look of relief on Paul's handsome face but it brought little comfort. She was, after all, to blame for them being in this situation in the first place.  
  
"Just what I need." She thought, "More guilt."  
  
"I'm fine, just a little tender." She added, this time out loud.  
  
"Have they hurt you? Anne, where are they keeping you, I'll be there in..."  
  
"No, not these people, Paul. I'm being well looked after here." She broke in and tried to calm him down. "It seems I was involved in something before we met, I'm not very sure what yet."  
  
She was deliberately vague and Angel applauded her desire to keep the Nardino family as far from the madness as possible. He noted, with some admiration that she managed not to tell Paul Nardino the truth without actually lying to him. She seemed to have turned her gift of gentle deception into an art form. However she managed it, it was amazing to hear. You actually found you didn't mind being conned. "Don't hate the player, hate the game." He thought to himself.  
  
"Is that how you got shot?" Paul asked, still sounding unconvinced but at least he was paying attention.  
  
"Possibly." She drew the word out, she didn't think that this was the time to get into specifics. At the end of the day it didn't matter who had shot her or why, at least not to Paul.  
  
"Hold on Roberto wants a word with you." They heard the phone switching hands and then Rob on the line.  
  
"Babe, are you okay? I got home and you weren't there and I just panicked." Rob sounded frantic. Angel's brow furrowed slightly and the only one to notice was Lorne. He smirked to himself but said nothing. It couldn't hurt for Angel to think what he was thinking and it might even do him some good.  
  
"I'm okay, Rob, I'm sorry I worried everyone." Ari's resolve wavered and she held it together, but only just.  
  
"When are you coming home?" He asked bluntly.  
  
She turned to the room and looked from Angel to Wesley to Gunn opening her eyes wide. She added a shrug for emphasis, "What should I tell him?" She asked without asking.  
  
"When we're sure she's not in any more danger she'll be free to go." Angel's tone was crisp and business like. What he had wanted to say was that Ariane already WAS home but he bit the comment back and kept his own council on the matter.  
  
"Is that Angel, Anne?" Rob sounded deeply interested, almost like he knew the answer before he asked the question. Everyone looked startled, including Ariane.  
  
"Why would you think that, Rob?" Cordelia asked seeing an opportunity to catch Ari out. None of the others wanted to believe she was capable of lying but Cordelia was determined and patient.  
  
"Anne?" Rob wasn't sure if he had been told anything in confidence and he didn't want to betray her trust.  
  
"It's okay, Rob." Her permission having been requested, she granted it willingly.  
  
"Well, who ever you are, my brother told me. Kinda."  
  
"Jamie did? What did he say exactly?" Ariane was astonished but smiled in spite of the seriousness of the situation. As alike as she and Jamie were now, Ari knew he would grow out of his talent before he reached five or so. Being so intuitive at a young age was more common than most people would believe and being around someone like Ari heightened his senses.  
  
"The little guy had another nightmare last night, scared everyone half to death so I'm told. He told me your angel came to save you from some monsters and you were with him now. I thought he meant you were dead at first but he said you weren't in heaven so I put two and two together and came up with the idea that maybe YOUR Angel wasn't as dead as you thought he was. How're you coping with that, Anne?"  
  
"Its all still a little surreal right now, Rob." She sighed, forgetting her audience for a second.  
  
"Oh, please." Cordelia muttered under her breath. The words brought Ariane back like a swift slap.  
  
"Tell Jamie I'm okay, will you." Ari's eyes misted and she wiped a tear from her cheek.  
  
Angel watched her and his own eyes dropped. He hadn't once asked how Ari had dealt with all her problems after the shooting, he hadn't really had time to process the whole deal himself. It was pretty clear she had confided her feelings to this guy, Rob. He wondered if that was all she had shared with him. After all, you didn't call just anyone "Babe".  
  
"You can tell him yourself, he's right here." Rob handed the phone to Jamie who was standing excitedly at his side.  
  
"What is this, meet the family?" Cordy muttered and stood up stomping toward the door, she had apparently heard enough. She was halted abruptly when the next voice to issue from the phone was that of a young child.  
  
"Hello Annie." Came the sunny sound of the youngest Nardino, surprising all of them.  
  
"Hi, Jamie." The warmth in Ari's voice was almost physical.  
  
"Daddy was yelling at a police man today." He confided and giggled. "When can I meet your angel?"  
  
"He's not my angel," She informed the three-year-old scratching at her shoulder again and blushing uncontrollably.  
  
"You got that right." Cordelia kept the thought to herself.  
  
"His name is Angel." Ariane finished and cast a swift look toward Cordelia. The remains of the drug still in her system, she wasn't back to 100% restriction on her abilities. She couldn't tell exactly what the woman was thinking and didn't want to, but she wasn't happy what ever it was.  
  
"I want to see the pointy man with the funny hair too."  
  
"Pointy man?" Wesley mouthed and looked to Ari for his answer, wondering if he could possibly mean Lorne.  
  
"I'm not sure if you meeting Spike would be such a good idea, Jay." She replied laughing quietly.  
  
In spite of his surprise that the child knew so much about them, Angel grinned at the thought of Spike being referred to by this kid as "the pointy man". It was simple yet it worked on so many levels. He knew he would be using that in the not too distant future. Just another weapon to add to his well-stocked arsenal of Spike take downs.  
  
Spike only muttered to himself and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, acting stormy.  
  
"Daddy want's to talk again. I love you, Annie, Bye-bye. No yelling this time Daddy, Mummy says its not good manners."  
  
"Jamie how did you get chocolate on the phone?" They all heard Paul mutter before speaking more clearly into the mouthpiece. "Anne, where do you want us to bring your things?" There was no margin for discussion. Paul wanted to see her and wasn't giving an inch. Tough negotiations were, after all, his stock in trade.  
  
Angel strode to his desk and picked up the telephone cutting them all out of the rest of the conversation. "Mr Nardino." He paused, presumably listening to Paul's reply. "Angel, I'm CEO of Wolfram & Hart, Attorneys at Law. I'll arrange for some of my men to escort you here. Is one hour acceptable? Yes, Sir." He hung up and everyone stared at him expectantly.  
  
"That's a mistake." Cordelia replied a warning clear in her tone. She was still standing mid way between her chair and the door.  
  
"Cordy."  
  
"You're not getting round me this time, Angel. We don't trust her, what makes you think we can trust them?"  
  
"YOU don't trust her you mean." Spike spat.  
  
"Spike, let it go." Everyone turned when Ariane spoke. "She's right."  
  
"I don't need any help from you and I'm not falling for your poor little sick kid act either, little Miss.... Troublemaker." Cordelia took several paces back into the room and glared down at Ari.  
  
Ari looked back at her, trying to remain expressionless. She didn't want to give Cordelia any excuse to lay into her again. Not that it seemed something she could control. Cordelia seemed bent on a confrontation sooner rather than later.  
  
"Back off, legs." Spike warned and took several paces toward her.  
  
"I've had it with this juvenile crap!" Angel slammed his fist down hard on the table making everyone jump. "Cordy, trust her or don't trust her I don't much care, but right now your going to have to trust me decide what's best here. Spike, if you threaten anyone else in my office I'm gonna make you regret it. Aria...where the hell do you think you're going?"  
  
During Angel's tirade Ariane had made for the door and was still moving despite all his bad tempered blustering.  
  
"I can't do this." She replied over her shoulder, taking a wide line around Cordelia on her way out the door. He couldn't tell if she was more upset or angry. "Just let me go, I'm not wanted here. Cordelia's right, I'm trouble."  
  
"At last someone talks sense." Cordelia almost cheered. A self-satisfied grin crept across her face marring her usual beauty.  
  
Angel ignored her shameful display of delight and strode after Ariane. Instead of stopping her from leaving as everyone expected, he took hold of the handles on her wheelchair and pushed her out of the door, closing it behind him. He stopped on the other side, close to the steps where he sat down on the third one. He positioned himself straight in front of Ari so that their faces were level and he could read everything he had to in her ever expressive eyes.  
  
His warm, soul melting, chocolate eyes burned into her brilliant blue pools, sparkling with tears. "Okay, Ari, so you want to leave. Where are you going to go? There's a kid with that family so you won't go back there, right? What about other friends? Nope, that'd be too risky. Do you have any money? No, so you can't stay in a hotel either. What does that leave you?" Angel was speaking so fast she could barely keep up.  
  
"I'll think of something." She mumbled knowing the logic of the situation but still loathed to admit she was trapped by it.  
  
"Sure you will." Angel agreed. He knew from experience the lengths she had gone to, to protect him. He wasn't about to dispute that she would do the same thing now, even if it meant sleeping in the street. "So let's say you do find somewhere to stay. How long do you think it would take for those warriors to find you again? Sorry to point this out Ari, but you're not exactly inconspicuous. And much as it looks like you know how to handle this thing, you're not capable of out running them."  
  
"Are you quite finished stating the obvious?" She replied curtly. "I'm well aware of my own... limitations, Angel, but you and pretty much everyone else will be safer if I'm not here."  
  
"What about you, who keeps you safe?" His anger gave way to curiosity.  
  
"I can look after myself and with everything that has gone on around here I'd hardly think I should be your greatest concern."  
  
"Is that so." Angel replied leaning back casually on one arm and looking toward the ceiling. He couldn't understand why everyone tried to tell him what his business was, or wasn't.  
  
"Don't scoff, Angel, I'm serious. I've done enough damage here to last a lifetime and if you think I'm just going to wait around for it to happen again then you're crazy."  
  
"I'm not laughing, Ari, but I can't let you walk out of here." He squirmed visibly when he realised what he had said. "I meant, em."  
  
"I know what you meant. Walk isn't a dirty word just because I can't do it, Angel." She scolded. "I can't stay and you won't let me leave. We are at an impasse?"  
  
"Mexican stand-off." He muttered and she cocked her head in question. "Never mind." He dismissed and scratched his cheek absently.  
  
"There's more to this situation than you understand, Ariane."  
  
"Isn't there always?" She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, huffing loudly and pouting. It was a new look for her and it made him smile, which only helped to infuriate her further.  
  
"Are you sulking?" He asked with undisguised amusement then gave a huff of laughter.  
  
"Can't think where I picked up that particular trait." She shot back then smiled at him, his mirth contagious.  
  
"Did you pick up any GOOD habits while you were here?"  
  
"That's a relative question. Define good?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thessimus scanned the scattered parchments and then began pacing his quarters. He seemed to think better on the move.  
  
If he had ever heard the phrase "think outside the box" that would exactly describe what he was attempting. He didn't, so he made do with muttering incoherently and clenching and unclenching his fists as he marched to and fro. His mind was a kaleidoscope of scenarios, snippets of plans, coming together and breaking apart as new idea's presented themselves. Thessimus was fairly crackling with excitement, he always felt his most alive when he was creating intrigue.  
  
Much as he must have outwardly appeared to be a hapless fool, or worse a mumbling lunatic, he was a genius when it came to underhanded strategy.  
  
"Attacking the law firm would be fruitless and a waste of already limited resources. The Key would likely be well guarded, as would Granlar." He placed two apples at the same end of his table and let his mind bring them to life. "Granlar is of lesser importance than the King's blessed Key." He continued, picking up one of the apples and biting into it savagely. "That being the case I am left with few options."  
  
He needed to create a bargaining position, something that the people in the citadel called, Wolfram & Hart could not easily ignore. Again he searched the parchments on the desk for inspiration and lit upon what Snort had called a 'fottergraph'. There were five people in the picture, only one of which truly interested Thessimus.  
  
"Nrada!" He yelled and snatched the likeness from the counter. "He is the one, he will bring them running to us. They will all be willing to sacrifice the Key to retrieve that prize." It seemed only seconds until the plan exploded fully formed into his head. Simple was always best, there was less margin for error and more opportunity to adapt when things went wrong, which they invariably did.  
  
He danced a gleeful jig at his own deviousness and congratulated himself then ran for the door to set his ingenious plan in motion.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"What do you think they're talking about out there?" Lorne mumbled loitering by the closed exit.  
  
"If you shut your bloody trap, demon, I'll be able to hear." Spike admonished, leaning casually against the door at his side and listening intently.  
  
"With any luck he'll just let her go?" Cordelia mused with some optimism as she returned to her seat beside Wesley.  
  
"He can't." Gunn replied knowledgeably and slumped into Angel's chair rubbing his tired face.  
  
"Why the hell not?" She sulked.  
  
"Have you forgotten what we were searching for before we realised what we had found? Ariane is a key, Cordelia. Regardless of who she is, we don't know what the Myoran's intentions were. We couldn't just let them take her again." He emphasised his point with a shake of his tired head.  
  
"Again I ask, why the hell not?"  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be the compassionate one?" Gunn looked at her with mild curiosity.  
  
"Not when my friends are threatened I'm not. That girl is a trouble magnet and I'd like to see her as far from Angel as possible, farther if I could arrange it."  
  
"Scared of a little competition, Luv?" Spike asked smirking delightedly as Cordelia tossed back a scornful look in response.  
  
"Don't mistake hero worship for love, Spike. Not that you're ever likely to experience it personally." She answered icily.  
  
"Who are you trying to convince, cheerleader, me or yourself?"  
  
"I think that's quite enough." Wesley was exhausted and was in no mood to sit through more childish sniping. The only thing worse than listening to Cordelia and Spike at each other's throats was Angel and Spike.  
  
"Who died and made you King, Percy?"  
  
"Stow the attitude, Spike, no-one's interested." Gunn muttered betraying his own tiredness with a heavy sigh.  
  
"Did anyone hear laughing? I thought I heard laughing." Lorne chattered still loitering by the door. It seemed he was the only one of the gang not waning with lack of sleep.  
  
"It feels like a hundred years since I heard laughter, but then if feels like a hundred years since I slept last. I'm going home." Gunn wearily pushed himself out of Angel's chair and slouched his way to the door closely followed by Wesley and Cordelia.  
  
"You can't leave now, they're still talking out there." Lorne shook his head and half heartedly stood across the doorway.  
  
"Get of the way, Lorne." Gunn spoke with almost no conviction, he was too tired to summon up the necessary enthusiasm.  
  
Lorne shrugged and stepped to the side giving Gunn access to the door without further restriction.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"We've had it, boss." Gunn spoke for all of them as they filed out of his office each one looking more exhausted than the other.  
  
"Is there anything you need before we go?" Wesley offered, years of ingrained good breeding preventing him from just walking out.  
  
"No, go home and get some rest. I'll see you back here tomorrow morning."  
  
"I'll call later, just to check in." Wes simultaneously yawned and waved goodbye.  
  
"Don't bother, I'll call if I need you."  
  
"You want some company when the folks arrive?" Spike enquired.  
  
"I think I can handle it." Angel replied with mocking confidence.  
  
"I wasn't talking to you, tit." Spike shot back and Ariane stifled a giggle, shaking her head.  
  
"It's going to be hard enough to get through this without having an audience too but thank you for the thought." She responded, hoping he wouldn't be too offended.  
  
She needn't have worried Spike wasn't much for family get-togethers, but he would have paid good money to see Angel in the middle of one.  
  
"I'll be back later anyway." He nodded and grinned when Angel shot him a withering glare.  
  
"What are you coming back here for?"  
  
"Cause I know it'll piss you off." Spike flipped him a two-fingered salute and gave Ari's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he passed.  
  
"I'll catch you later, munchkin. If I forgot to say so, it's great to have you back in the land of the living." Lorne bent to kissed her cheek and gave her a hug just for good measure. "We need to catch up later, Angel eyes."  
  
"Something important?" Angel's brow furrowed and he stood up.  
  
"It can wait. Right now I have a hot date with a bath tub, an Orlando Bloom movie and long cool drinks with multiple umbrella's and olives. You two star crossed whatever's look after each other, you hear me?" They both nodded to him wearing matching plastic smiles.  
  
"How much of that did you get?" Angel whispered side mouthed to Ari.  
  
"About half." She whispered back.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Imzadi: Yes, Angel can be a jerk sometimes, but I can't help thinking he's not a lost cause. I feel really bad that I didn't put them in again. I'll bump up their part to make it up to you.  
  
Ardy-Bo-Bardy: Thanks very much. I'm glad you liked the character interaction.  
  
Celtic Cat: Ariane had to be Spiked up some. She couldn't stay that sweet forever, it would have given me toothache. Oh, and I promise there will be plenty of smack laid down as soon as I can lay my hands on those elusive Myoran's. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

It was late but Granlar couldn't tell how late exactly. His internal time piece had gone awry sometime after transporting from Th'hesela and he still hadn't gotten it back yet.  
  
Granlar sat on the edge of his cot in the holding cell they had left him in and listened to the snivelling apologies from his young companion in the cell opposite. He had tried offering words of comfort to the boy but they had fallen on deaf ears. He was beyond Granlar's help now, blubbering something about his mother's shame and how he could never go home. Granlar switched off and tuned in to his own thoughts.  
  
The bookish human had left him swiftly, having been torn away to attend to an apparent commotion elsewhere. As he was being led back to his cell Granlar had heard much shouting and running. These people were apparently not as well organised as they thought. He had thought at first that it was a rescue attempt but the more he considered the idea the more he thought it unlikely. Rathlyn would be licking his wounds and most likely being chastised severely by the King himself. In a way he was grateful they had not tried to rescue him. They're troops were needed elsewhere and dragging them from the front to storm this place would only do more harm.  
  
All this time to think was a luxury Granlar had seldom experienced. He was more accustomed to instant decisions than deep contemplation. Given a choice he would always choose the former, it suited his nature better to take quick and decisive action. Sitting around and thinking was a pedagogic pass time.  
  
Still, he collected his thoughts and wondered what information the weeping Larfan could have passed on. It could be nothing of great consequence; the boy wasn't in possession of anything deeply significant. Aside from their inability to transport the key through the gateway and the female could pass on that knowledge on her own.  
  
"She is a strange one." He thought. The legend had spoken of many things in relation to the key, but it had never mentioned its nature. The girl had seemed innocent and pure of heart. She had not once complained or groused about her treatment, as he would have expected from someone born to this lavish and comfort driven dimension. "From a place not it's own it shall come." He reminded himself of the words of the legend and nodded in the semi-darkness. After her initial attempt to escape she had complied, while perhaps not willingly, then without protest even during their numerous botched threshold-crossing endeavours. He wondered if she was aware of what the King had planned for her on the other side of that portal? He also could not dispel the moment she had touched him and referred to his fear of what she could do.  
  
He lay back on the narrow bed and stared at the ceiling wondering at the series of events that had brought him here. Predominantly his selfish desire to be the one who returned to Myor with the key. He wanted to be noticed by the King as the bringer of Rinewy Venex.  
  
His Mother had often told him stories of the royal court and filled him with dreams of being the heir to the Myoran crown. He was of age, but so were a dozen men born the same year under the harvest moon. In light of the King's failing health they would find out soon enough who was the rightful successor to the throne. His eyes began to droop and soon he was sleeping soundly, or as soundly as any true warrior slept at least.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel watched Ari from the corner of his eye. He was supposed to be reading a case file Gunn had given him two days ago but he couldn't concentrate. He checked his watch and noted that Paul Nardino should be arriving shortly.  
  
Ariane was staring out of the window, fidgeting and wringing her hands restlessly in her lap.  
  
"Why so nervous?" Angel asked closing the file and pushing his chair back from the desk.  
  
"I don't know whether I'm more worried about introducing you to Paul or Paul to you?" She admitted with a shrug, her attention still on the world outside.  
  
"I'll stay out of the way if it'd make you feel better?" He offered taking a seat close to her on the sofa.  
  
"No, I'd like you to meet him. I don't know what's wrong with me." She wrapped her arms around herself and heaved a heavy sigh. She stared out at the darkening sky. "If you had asked me yesterday what I most wanted in the world I would have said you. Now...."  
  
"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" He asked, arching an eyebrow and breaking into a lopsided smile at her look of dismay.  
  
"Of course not. It just doesn't feel real."  
  
"Like a dream." He nodded knowing personally how she was feeling.  
  
"I'm just waiting for the ...."  
  
"Gun to go off." They finished together. A look of astonishment passed between them.  
  
"Have you been dreaming about me?" Angel asked. Ariane blushed but nodded her assent wondering if he had been dreaming of her but too afraid to ask.  
  
Angel could hear approaching feet outside and he cursed to himself, "Typical." He thought.  
  
"We're going to talk about this later." He warned Ariane with a pointed finger as she turned from the window toward him. "He's here."  
  
There was a single sharp rap on the door and it opened almost instantly. "Excuse me, Sir."  
  
"It's okay, just show him in." Angel interrupted the man before he could finish. Behind him there was a sound of running feet and giggling. Angle was surprised to find that Paul Nardino had apparently not come alone.  
  
"She's in here, Daddy." Jamie squeezed between the security guard and the door running straight for Ariane and launching into her lap. He landed loud, wet, smacking kisses all over her beaming face and hugged her tightly.  
  
"Hello to you too." She responded between kisses. She hugged him back fiercely revelling in the joy of him.  
  
"Jamie, you're going to suffocate her." Paul remarked with dry humour. He appraised Angel coldly as he walked in to the office but said nothing heading to the seat the vampire had just vacated and taking hold of Ari's hand.  
  
Jamie gave Ariane one last hug then climbed down from her knees leaving she and his father to talk "big peoples" talk. He walked slowly, deliberately toward Angel and when the tall man didn't notice him he pulled on his pants leg to attract his attention.  
  
Angel looked down, his arms dropping from his chest where they had seemed to go without his knowledge. His brow furrowed as he looked down into the little solemn upturned face of Jamie Nardino.  
  
Jamie stuck out his index finger and with great concentration beckoned to the man to come down to his level, it was a newly acquired talent. Curiosity gained the upper hand and Angel crouched down, he was still head and shoulders above the boy, but it was obviously preferable.  
  
"Something on your mind, kid?" Angel asked with a reassuring smile. "This should be good." He thought.  
  
Without a word, Jamie put his arms around Angel's neck and squeezed tightly then planted a soft butterfly light kiss on his cheek. "Thank you." He stated with a sunny smile.  
  
Angel's throat worked and he swallowed hard around an unexpected lump of emotion. "You're welcome." He replied. "What did I do?"  
  
"Mummy says its manners to say thank you when somebody does something good for you. You saved Annie from the ugly monsters and you're going to keep her safe at your house. Daddy said you'd send her away but I think you'll keep her home with you." Jamie stated his point in such a fashion that Angel couldn't argue, not that he would even try to argue with a three-year- old.  
  
"Ari told me you were special but I didn't think she meant this special." Angel replied so quietly only he and Jamie could hear.  
  
"Jamie, don't pester the man." Paul called to his son and patted the seat next to him.  
  
Angel made to stand but Jamie put his arms around his neck again. It was pretty clear Angel had made a friend, though how they had become so close so quickly he couldn't say.  
  
"For gods sake, it's just clothes you idiot. Be careful with that too." There was grumbling from the foyer and if it hadn't been for the American accent and the lack of profanities, Angel would have thought it was Spike. With Jamie still in his arms he walked to the door to see what was going on.  
  
"It's Uncle Rob." Jamie told him casually adding a cheeky grin. It would seem that Rob was well known for his temperament.  
  
"Barclay, I'll take it from here." Angel nodded to the stone-faced assistant head of security.  
  
"Miss Chase ordered me to search anything they brought with them, Sir." Barclay informed him without stopping. He unzipped a second hold all and rummaging through the contents with complete disregard.  
  
"And I'm ordering you to leave it alone." Angel glared at the man and dared him to disobey. Barclay removed his hand from the bag and closed the zipper with deliberate slowness.  
  
"If you say so, Sir." There was venom in the last word and Angel stored away his anger for later use. Spike was right, Cordy had turned her security staff into the Gestapo.  
  
"Mr Nardino." Angel dragged his eyes from the security guard, shifted Jamie onto one arm and presented his hand.  
  
"I'm Rob. Mr Nardino's my Dad, but I guess you met him already." He replied taking Angel's hand and shaking it firmly. Rob was everything Angel had expected, tall, handsome in a boyish, fresh, athletic way. "I guess he's okay if you like that kind of thing." He thought to himself.  
  
"Daddy's with Ari." Jamie hoisted a thumb back toward Angel's office.  
  
"Ari?" Rob queried, unsure if he had misheard.  
  
"Its Annie's real name. This is Angel."  
  
"Thanks, squirt but I had kind of figured that out for myself." Rob and Angel observed each other not quite eye to eye, Rob was inches shorter. There was awkwardness between them that Rob didn't quite grasp the reason for.  
  
"Can I see her?" He broke the silence and nodded toward the open office door.  
  
"Oh, yeah, sure." Breaking the look Angel turned and walked back to his office where Ari and Paul were still talking quietly. She looked up at the sound of their entry and smiled warmly to all three of them. Shaking her head at both Angel and Jamie, neither one now willing to break the contact they had made.  
  
Rob said nothing but his face lit into a warm smile similar to that of Jamie's the moment his eyes fell on her. He walked over to where she sat beside his father and knelt down at her side. He slipped his arms around her and hugged her tightly, staying that way much longer than Angel was comfortable with.  
  
"You'll stuffy kate her, Uncle Rob." Jamie warned him seriously then broke into giggles. Angel joined him in a smile, getting drawn in to the kid's contagious laughter. He started to fidget and Angel put him back on his feet. Within seconds he had run to Angel's chair and was happily spinning himself dizzy.  
  
"You scared me half to death." Rob spoke into her hair then finally released her from his bear hug. "Next time I take you out clubbing we all go home together."  
  
"Clubbing, Ariane?" Angel asked, surprised.  
  
"First time out since she got out... since she moved in with me." Rob answered, standing up and straitening his shirt. Angel's face hardened but he said nothing, simply nodded his understanding.  
  
"Ariane tells me your company are well versed in dealing with this kind of case, Mr ... sorry, Angel." Paul spoke with business like forthrightness, returning their attention to the more significant situation.  
  
"Around here every case is different, but we can handle practically anything." He assured the man with well-placed confidence.  
  
"She also tells me she trusts you. I get the feeling there is something more to that than meets the eye but under the circumstances I'm not in a position to ask too many questions."  
  
"No, you're not." Angel replied his tone on the cool side. He wanted to know exactly where Paul was planning on taking this.  
  
"Paul, Angel is my... friend and I'd trust him with anything." She kept her eyes fixed on Paul and Angel mentally thanked her. It was important that this guy didn't cause trouble, as much for Ariane as for them. She was going through enough without having Paul Nardino second-guessing him at every turn. Trouble with the cops was just an added wrinkle he didn't need.  
  
"Oh, hell, I forgot." Rob bolted out of the office and retrieved the item he had "forgotten" in the foyer, then returned with it grinning from ear to ear. Angel noted with some surprise that Ariane didn't look half as pleased by what she saw. He couldn't understand why she would be so mad about them bringing her a wheelchair.  
  
"Paul Nardino, where did that come from?" It was a rhetorical question as it was blatantly obvious whom and where the new chair had come from. She scowled deeply and Angel was grateful he wasn't on the receiving end of the look. He'd seen warmer icebergs.  
  
"Er, well, I." This was a much less business like man than the one Angel had seen only moments earlier.  
  
"How long have you had it?" She continued as he stammered.  
  
"Er, well.." This time she waited for him to answer, all the time her frown was deepening. "I, bought it about a month ago." He finally admitted holding his head up defiantly against her look of ultimate disapproval.  
  
"What's the big deal?" Angel enquired, having enough of being out of the loop.  
  
"Almost four thousand dollars, is the big deal." She replied her eyes never leaving Paul's face. "I asked you not to. I told you it cost too much. I'll never be able to repay you."  
  
"You can't sit in that thing forever." He informed her taking on the tone of a stern father and pointing to the wheelchair Spike had "borrowed" for her. "There's no lumbar support and it's too heavy for you, not to mention the brakes aren't practical."  
  
The wheelchair Paul had brought was, Angel guessed, the sports version of a wheelchair with all the optional extras. More compact and modern than the purely functional model she had borrowed.  
  
"You've become quite an expert." She blinked and dropped her head. Paul was right, there was no denying it. More than a couple of hours in the chair and her back would be singing aria's into the wee small hours.  
  
"It's an interesting subject." Paul lied. "Are you going to try it out or stay in that thing out of spite?"  
  
"Come on, dummy. You don't cross the boss." Rob grinned, placing himself in front of her, he bent at the knees. She put her arms around his neck and locked her hands together as he grasped her gently around her waist and stood up turning easily and depositing her in the new chair.  
  
Angel watched them closely noticing the fluid movements and lack of awkwardness; it was obviously a well-practised technique.  
  
"How does it feel?" Rob asked wiggling his eyebrows and flashing his toothpaste commercial smile at her.  
  
"Expensive." She shot back sighing with comical discontent.  
  
"Anne!" Paul attempted to placate her with his soft voice, gentle shrug and winning smile. She looked back and shook her head all his tricks having no effect.  
  
"Formula One!" Jamie yelled from the opposite end of the office where he had been almost forgotten. He won where the other two Nardino's had failed. Ariane held out her arms and readied herself.  
  
"What?" Angel asked, intrigued by Jamie's enthusiasm as he ran the length of the office at full pelt.  
  
"Watch this." Rob grinned as Jamie sprung onto Ari's lap. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and Rob look hold of the low back of her wheelchair.  
  
"Ready, set, go." He yelled and they sped off out of Angel's office and around the reception area, Jamie making engine sounds and Rob attempting a rather bad interpretation of squealing brakes. Moments later, after two quick circuits of reception, they flew back through the door with Rob panting and flushed and Jamie giggling like a lunatic.  
  
"Did we win Daddy?" Jamie asked sliding onto the floor and scampering over to sit beside his father.  
  
"By a mile." Paul replied smiling warmly and ruffling his son's hair.  
  
Angel felt a pang of longing, looking at father and son so clearly happy together it was a stinging reminder of what had been stolen from him. His jaw firmed and his arms crossed, again without his bidding.  
  
"What do you want us to do with these things, Sir?" Barclay asked interrupting his musings. The man was standing in the doorway with an agitated look on his face.  
  
"Leave them where they are, I'll deal with them later." He scowled when Barclay made no move to leave. "Was there something else?"  
  
"The computer, Sir. It should be examined by the science department before...."  
  
"What computer?" Ariane turned to Paul as he and Rob exchanged shrugs.  
  
"I thought you'd want it, it's Dad's notebook. He doesn't use it."  
  
"Thanks Roberto, I need you to tell everyone how brainless I am with computers." Paul returned his attention to Ariane after drawing daggers to his son. "I thought it would help keep you occupied."  
  
"I'll have Fred take a look at it in the morning. You'll be sure to put that in your report Barclay. I wouldn't want Miss Chase to miss anything." Angel answered the man's question with a scowl in his voice more menacing than the one on his face.  
  
"Of course not, Sir."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Paul, Rob and Jamie left shortly after, Jamie and Ari both looking exhausted.  
  
"Are you sure they're safe?" Ariane asked Angel as he stepped into the elevator behind her.  
  
"Sure as I can be." He replied. "I don't think the Myoran's will try anything tonight if that's what you mean."  
  
She nodded and prayed he was right, still unsure of the Myoran's reasons for abducting her. Questions were a luxury she hadn't earned and she was reluctant to push her luck any further than she already had. Angel had been gracious enough to give her a chance to explain herself. It was courtesy for her to give him time to absorb all the details before making demands.  
  
She ran a hand over her hair as Angel pressed the button for his penthouse. She sat quietly, oblivious to their destination. She was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to even notice which direction they were travelling in.  
  
"Some day, huh?" Angel asked, unintentionally reading her mind. The door slid open and she followed him out into his apartment.  
  
She looked around her then looked up into Angel's handsome face. "Some understatement." She commented dryly.  
  
"I'll give you that one." He nodded and made his way to the kitchen. "Are you waiting for something? Come in. You want anything?" He asked pleasantly. He hadn't realised how much he needed a drink until after the Nardino's left. The excitement of the day and fighting the poison had taken more out of him than he'd expected.  
  
"No, thanks." She answered heading straight for the window. She had never been in Angel's apartment and the view was breathtaking.  
  
Angel busied himself in the kitchen pouring blood into a mug and heating it in the microwave. "We need to talk." He spoke quietly as returned to the living room and walked toward Ariane by the window.  
  
"Yes." She admitted not moving, her eyes glued to the darkness pressing on the window, her shoulders tensing.  
  
"But not tonight. You're exhausted, we can do it tomorrow." He rested a hand on her shoulder and felt it relax under his palm.  
  
She turned herself around and began wheeling toward the elevator.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"Where am I sleeping?" She asked eyes wide and questioning.  
  
"Here." He smiled to himself when she looked back in surprise. "And that's not up for discussion. I want you where I can keep an eye on you."  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You haven't even met her, Blake. Take my word for it, she's trouble with a capital everything." Cordy fumed as Blake drove her back to his apartment.  
  
"I'm just saying you should give her a chance, not set up house with her." He was as calm as she was irritated and his composure only made matters worse.  
  
"Chances? Look what she did when she was here last time, which is what chances get you, Blake. She almost got Angel killed. She lied to everyone." Cordy was on roll and Blake wasn't brave enough to interrupt her. "She made Lorne throw a party and .."  
  
"Hold it, nobody needs to give that guy a reason to throw a party. He does that all on his own." Blake tried to draw her out of the red mist she had descended into with a flash of his perfect smile but she only wrinkled her brow and shook her head. "I think you are giving her way too much credit. I still maintain that your best bet is to talk to her. If you feel the same way after that you can take your findings to Angel. Then he can't say you haven't given her an opportunity to defend her actions."  
  
"You're such a .... Lawyer."  
  
"Is that an insult or a compliment?"  
  
"Take any way you like."  
  
"I plan to, later." He winked and ran a hand over her thigh.  
  
"Blake, this is serious." She scolded him removing his hand from her leg and replacing it on the steering wheel.  
  
"You're not going to give up on this one, are you?"  
  
"Not while I'm still breathing and that woman is still hanging around." She huffed.  
  
"Then for Gods sake talk to her." He stated flatly. "You're never going to sort anything out by bitching about it."  
  
"I'm not bitching." She spat, furious that he would accuse her of such a thing.  
  
"No?"  
  
"I'm protecting my friends." She corrected him and crossed her arms.  
  
"Sure you are, but you're not the teensiest bit curious about her? You don't want to know why Angel's so keen to give her a second chance?"  
  
"Angel's a big soft hearted fool sometimes and she's an expert at sob stories. Bet that wheelchair's a con too." Cordy muttered half-heartedly.  
  
"I kind of doubt that." Blake shook his head. Tired as he was, he couldn't switch off his lawyer's inquisitive instincts. "It'd be too easy to catch her out."  
  
"Hmph."  
  
He smirked lazily and swung the car into a right hand turn.  
  
"Where are we going?" Cordy asked when she noticed his detour.  
  
"Breakfast." He informed her. "Fresh baked croissants." He waggled his eyebrows enticingly and tried to draw her out of her mood.  
  
"Hmmm." She purred, closing her eyes and grinning at the thought, all thoughts of Ariane set aside for the moment.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel woke up by inches, crawling out of the warm darkness of sleep into the bright harsh light of day. He sat up and stretched, feeling his sleep sluggish muscles waking up. He was debating whether to wash before breakfast or go get a coffee and take it with him. He had totally forgotten about his guest as he padded into the bathroom and received the shock of his unlife when he saw her leaning precariously with one arm on her chair and the other reaching upwards to turn on the shower. Her fingers brushed the controls and the shower sprang to life.  
  
"Ari, what the hell are ..." Before he could finish she gasped with surprise and toppled out of the chair to land on her back, sprawled half in and half out of the cubicle. The wheelchair followed her, clattering against the tiles and coming to rest on its side.  
  
"Oops." She lay there cringing with embarrassment as the powerful jets of water rained down on her, soaking her pale pink jersey pj's. She tried to sit up and her hand slipped on the wet surface. With his lightening quick reflexes, Angel leaned into the shower and his hand shot out to stop her from falling again.  
  
"If you needed help, why didn't you just wake me up?" He grumbled, still holding her close.  
  
"I thought you needed to sleep, anyway you looked so peaceful I didn't want to disturb you."  
  
"Next time, just disturb me. You have my permission."  
  
"You're getting wet." She informed him needlessly.  
  
"Can you sit there without falling over?" She nodded blankly, feeling like the water was the only thing stopping her blush from singeing her hair.  
  
He righted her wheelchair then leaned back and turned off the water. Still scowling he stepped into the shower and crouched down in front of her, water trickling down the contours of his face.  
  
"I'm sorry." She whispered as she clasped her hands around his neck in the same position she had with Rob the night before.  
  
"Showering together wasn't quite what I had in mind when I woke up." He replied trying to lighten the moment. He could see how uncomfortable she was. He placed her gently in the chair and handed her a towel from the stand without another word.  
  
Another blush rose to flush Ari's cheeks bright red when she noticed how her pj's moulded to her body. She covered herself with the towel and used a corner to dry her face.  
  
The tense moment was broken when Angel heard a knock at his apartment door and excused himself to answer it as Ariane made herself more presentable. He snatched another towel and began drying his hair as he walked.  
  
Wesley hadn't waited to be invited before entering. He was halfway into Angel's room when the vampire appeared, dripping wet from his bedroom.  
  
"Angel, I was reading up on the Rinewy Venex Prophesy." He stated conversationally, with his head still stuck in the book he was carrying. He looked up and noticed Angel's damp satin pyjama pants then shrugged his question.  
  
"The what prophesy?" Angel asked ignoring Wesley's look of query and removing the towel from his head.  
  
"Rinewy Venex. As far as I can tell it means, "living peace"." When Angel still looked blank Wesley tried again. "The Myoran thing?"  
  
"Oh, that." Angel nodded and motioned for him to continue. At his back, Ariane appeared from the bedroom still in her wet clothes.  
  
Wesley's jaw dropped and he shot a looked of astonishment in Angel's direction.  
  
"I .. we... She fell in the shower." He stammered making the situation worse with his guilty expression.  
  
"Yes, of course. God grant you a fine day, Ariane." He smirked as she passed him.  
  
"And may he grant you twice the number, Lord Wesley." She nodded politely as she made her way back to her room.  
  
"The prophecy, Wes?" Angel reminded him of the reason for his rather impromptu visit as the English man watched her leave.  
  
"Yes. It's rather unusually written, it reads like a fairy tale. Handsome princes and beautiful maidens kidnapped by jealous brothers. The brothers fight, the maiden tries to stop them and falls through a portal."  
  
"I thought you called it a prophecy, what does all that garbage have to do with Ariane?"  
  
"If you give me a second I'll explain." Wesley muttered as Angel returned to his bedroom to change clothes.  
  
"The story is simply a convenient medium to pass on the prophecy." He continued, pacing the room casually. "The fair maiden was with child when she transported through the portal and that child will bring peace to a warring world."  
  
"It's five hundred years old, that kid must be long since dead. Maybe they made a mistake?" Angel emerged from his room dressed in a dark grey slacks and deep violet shirt.  
  
"That's the twist in the tale." Wesley replied energetically, "I said before the portal works as a time altering device. It wouldn't therefore, be ridiculous to consider that the woman could appear here, in our "where and when" due to some kind of...temporal anomaly."  
  
"Temporal anomaly? You and Fred been talking about this, Wes?"  
  
"We discussed the theoretical science behind it, yes." He admitted and coughed.  
  
"It sounds a bit out there. You know, sci-fi, back to the future and all that stupid kids stuff."  
  
"Time travel is far from kids stuff, Angel." Wesley assured him with all the condescension he could express.  
  
"Time travel I can follow but you still haven't mentioned where I fit into your tale?" Ariane entered the room and looked up into Wesley's surprised face.  
  
As it was Sunday and she had dressed casually in a sky blue slash-neck wool sweater, cargo's pants and sneakers. Her still damp hair was tied back in a high ponytail. She waited for the two men to conclude their appraisal of her then asked again. "What does this fable have to do with me, and why did Spike refer to me yesterday as a key?"  
  
"Who's all here?" Angel asked Wesley, changing the subject swiftly. He wasn't ready to answer Ariane's questions until he could answer everything at once. Anyway he was hoping she could provide some answers herself.  
  
"All of us with the exception of Lindsey, Spike and Cordelia."  
  
"Lindsey's with his wife, no point calling him down here. Spike I can do without, I'll call Cordy."  
  
"Call me about what?" She asked, appearing at the door Wesley had omitted to close.  
  
"We need to talk about the Myoran situation." He strode to the elevator and the others followed.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"You weren't going to start the party without me, were you?" Spike asked jumping down the last two steps to stand nose to nose with Angel.  
  
"The idea had some appeal." He replied with sullen smarmy charm. "Have you been drinking?"  
  
"Yep. Got caught up in a poker game with some howler demons. Practically won my weight in kittens." He added with undisguised glee.  
  
"Did he say kittens?" Ari asked Lorne as she travelled beside him into Angel's office.  
  
"Sure did, honey bee." He nodded with a wicked smile. "Don't worry though, he won't hurt them."  
  
"That's comforting." Ari replied, the confused expression still evident. A second later she froze on the spot, shocked by a noise in the room. She recognised it but couldn't believe it. Looking around at the person responsible she decided to keep her thoughts to herself for the time being.  
  
"Something wrong, precious?" Lorne asked when he noticed her missing from his side.  
  
"What? No, nothing." She purposefully placed herself at the back of the room; it was a throwback to her days in Meenotuk's court. "Slaves should merge with the surroundings until they are called upon."  
  
Angel took up his second favourite position, perched on the front of his desk with his ankles crossed. He let his gaze wander around the room leaving no one out.  
  
"Okay, we all know why we're here. Wes why don't you fill us in on what you've learned so far."  
  
Wesley took over and brought them all up to speed on the Myoran prophecy and it's basic essence.  
  
"Sounds like a load of bollocks to me." Spike muttered sarcastically when Wesley was done.  
  
"After all that love struck, stomach-churning poetry you wrote? I thought all this lyrical crap would be right up your alley?" Angel shot back.  
  
"Shut your bloody gob, wanker, or I'll put my toe right up your alley."  
  
"Gentlemen, please?" Wesley rolled his eyes and tried to calm the situation as Gunn sniggered and Fred and Cordelia exchanged looks of tired resignation. "The point is we know why the Myoran's were looking for a key. They want to re-open the portal and return themselves to a time before war broke out."  
  
"Okay, I have a question." Cordelia piped up from her seat close to Angel's desk. "Is that a bad thing? I mean, usually we only get involved when there are apocalypses to avert or bad guys to vanquish. This time it looks like we actually stopped the good guys from doing a good thing."  
  
"Correct me if I'm wrong, luv, but wasn't it you who had the vision that started this whole wagon train a-rolling?" Spike replied more than a little annoyed at what she was inferring.  
  
"At the moment we're not focusing on the moral aspects of it." Again Wesley attempted to redirect the conversation.  
  
"Then maybe we should focus on it?" Cordelia shot back not willing to let her question go unanswered. "All those Myoran whatsits are trying to do is stop fighting. Simple solution. Give them the key and let them go about their business. We could just ask them to .... return her when they're done." The last part was added merely for appearance sake. She guessed it hadn't worked when everyone glared at her, shocked that she would even consider the notion.  
  
"Cordelia, I don't think it's a case of 'returning it when they're done'. In the first instance opening a portal isn't as straightforward as it sounds. Added to that the fact that the key they use to do it is generally rendered er ... inoperative afterward." His eyes strayed to Ariane who had sat silently throughout their discourse.  
  
"Inoperative? As in what, no longer useful?" Gunn asked, he too confused by the word.  
  
"Its Percy's polite way of saying opening the portal would kill Ariane." Spike answered and room went dreadfully quiet.  
  
"We're not going to let that happen. They can find another way to end their war, or fight each other until the end of time." Angel's tone was steel hard and stone cold.  
  
"The warrior I questioned mentioned there being no other key and no time to find one. It would appear that King Myor is dying and this is his last wish. He wants to bring peace to his people before he dies." Wesley said, the sound apologetic.  
  
"Do you think they're going to try to take her back?" Gunn asked, for the moment forgetting Ariane's presence.  
  
"They won't try anything here, it would be suicide. Besides they would have tried it before now if that were the case. If I had to guess, I'd say they'll attempt to bargain with us for her return." Wesley replied  
  
"They'd have to have something to bargain with." Spike searched Wesley's face for an answer and found nothing. "They got anything we'd want, Watcher?"  
  
"To be honest we don't know very much about them, but I can't think of anything off the top of my head." He shook his head for emphasis then rested his chin on his hand as he contemplated the subject.  
  
Ariane slipped silently out of the room while the gathered friends' attention was occupied elsewhere.  
  
"Am I a thing?" She asked herself with tears in her eyes but yet to fall.  
  
Since her childhood she had been taught to believe she was nothing more than a possession. Little more than a plaything for Meenotuk and those like him. The one thought that had kept her from breaking completely was her knowledge that she was human. That once she had been more than just a piece of merchandise.  
  
Her stomach knotted and she fought back the nausea that came with it. She kept moving, blindly following her nose, not knowing or caring where she was going. She just wanted to escape the cold, clinical, conversation, which was taking place in Angel's office. There was no need for her to hear it; they would decide her fate with out her contribution or consent. It seemed little had changed since Meenotuk's guardianship. Her destiny was still to be decided by her master, she had no say in it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Without realising Ariane was missing the gang discussed the problem as they each saw it.  
  
"The prophecy doesn't say how the key will get there. Just where it comes from, or more accurately where it doesn't come from."  
  
"I don't get how they had so much trouble getting her through that threshold set up they had back at the druids place?" Gunn added.  
  
"He didn't say." Wesley shook his head.  
  
"Neither did the kid. Said lots of stupid stuff about a guy called Supreme Rathburn or something. Didn't sound like he liked him much, scared the holy ... Scared him a bit." Gunn shrugged and looked at Angel. "What did little Houdini have to say about it?" He followed Angel's gaze to the emptiness at the back of the room.  
  
"Where did she go?" Angel frowned. His eyes darted around the room even though it was obvious she was no longer there.  
  
"I'll find her." Spike was out of his seat and striding into the corridor in seconds. All this sitting around talking and nothing else was doing his head in anyway.  
  
"Angel." Wesley drew his attention back from the now empty doorway. "Lindsey seemed to have an extensive knowledge of keys, perhaps he could shed some light on the situation?"  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Angel knocked on the door twice then stood with his shoulders squared and his hands clasped in front of him. He didn't trust them not to ball into fists if he let them loose.  
  
He had tried Lindsey's cell phone, his home number and then his cell again. Finally after going around in circles a couple of times and still getting no joy, Angel picked up his car keys and drove to Lindsey's apartment.  
  
"I'll get it honey, keep stirring or it'll stick." Angel heard the female voice from the other side of the door.  
  
"Hello, can I help you?" Rachel sounded surprised when she greeted Angel at the door. She was wiping her hands on a towel and had a smudge of melted chocolate on her cheek.  
  
"Hi, Mrs MacDo.. er, Rachel. Sorry to bother you, is Lindsey home?" He asked needlessly. She nodded her head, her shoulder length auburn hair bobbing gently. Her huge hazel eyes looked confused and suspicious though Angel was trying his best not to look threatening.  
  
"Who is it, babe?" Lindsey asked snaking an arm around Rachel's waist as he joined her at the door, a frown creased his forehead when he recognised Angel. "Rachel go check on dinner." He squeezed her arm gently to draw her attention from Angel and nodded in earnest when she arched a questioning eyebrow.  
  
She was reluctant to leave but made no challenge and returned to the kitchen with only one backward glance at Angel and her husband still standing in the doorway.  
  
"I'm guessing this is important." Lindsey commented with dry humour.  
  
"You could say that." Angel replied leaning one arm on the door frame and looking down at Lindsey.  
  
"Rachel just got home, couldn't it wait until tomorrow?"  
  
"Do you think I'd have come all the way down here if it could wait?" Angel sighed and shifted where he stood. This had been one thing about being a vampire he had difficulty dealing with. He hated not being allowed to go where ever he wanted. Skulking sort of came with the turf, but mincing around a doorway made him feel, well, unclean.  
  
"Lindsey MacDonald, where are your manners? I know your Mother taught you better than that, and I'll tell her so the next time she calls. I'm sorry, I didn't recognise you before. You're Angel, from the firm." Rachel returned from the kitchen shaking her head and scowling at her husband. "Please come in." She invited warmly and Angel felt the invisible but distinctive barrier across the entrance disappear.  
  
"I can put it back anytime." Lindsey warned him unnecessarily as they followed Rachel into the lounge.  
  
It was a large, open, comfortable room, with a floor to ceiling window showing the last, orange blaze of sunset on the horizon. The light coloured walls reflected the light back, creating a cosy atmosphere. Angel could somehow tell this was a happy home and for an instant he felt an incredible pang of jealousy.  
  
"Can I offer you something to drink?" Rachel asked pleasantly when they were seated.  
  
"We don't have his brand, Rach. Sweetie, could you give us a minute?" Lindsey's eyes softened as he looked at his beautiful wife. Five seven with a body like heaven it's self, he couldn't get enough of her. He rubbed his hands together gently to sate the urge to touch her.  
  
"Sure, honey." She nodded and left, but not before kissing the corner of his mouth and running her hand through his short hair.  
  
Lindsey wiped the soppy grin from his face and returned his attention to Angel. "What do you want?"  
  
"I tried to call." Angel began to apologise before the could stop himself.  
  
"We didn't feel like talking tonight. Might have known you wouldn't take the hint." He sat back in the comfortable chair and waited for Angel to get to the point.  
  
"The Myoran's couldn't transport Ariane through their portal. I need to know why."  
  
"What makes you think I'd know?"  
  
"Lindsey, the sooner you tell me the sooner I'm out of your hair. Then you and your wife can get back to ... cooking."  
  
With a heavy sigh, Lindsey admitted defeat. "What do you mean they "couldn't" transport her? What exactly happened?"  
  
"Every time they tried to take her through she bounced off." Angel replied, passing on the information Lorne had given him. "Could there be some kind of spell on her?"  
  
"Hold it." Lindsey held up his hand and Angel waited, giving him time to think. "Right at the start of all this, back with Meenotuk. Did he give her to you or Angel, CEO of Wolfram & Hart?"  
  
"Is there a difference?"  
  
"Of course there's a difference. One means she's yours, the other means she's the property of W&H. If that's the case then she couldn't be taken out of this dimension without your authorisation. It's a standard protection charm to safeguard all Wolfram & Hart acquisitions." He made the statement like Angel should have known this type of information for himself. It was an act of will not to wipe the smug smirk off of Lindsey's face.  
  
"Ariane is not an acquisition." He warned, narrowing his eyes and edging toward Lindsey with menacing deliberation. He'd had enough of people talking about Ari like she was some kind of commodity.  
  
"Maybe not, but she is owned by Wolfram & Hart." Lindsey held his hands out, palms facing Angel in a gesture of submission. "Don't look so mad, Angel, that's probably what saved her life. It's definitely what stopped them from taking her to Th'hesela."  
  
Angel relaxed slightly and nodded in understanding. It wasn't Lindsey's fault Ari's situation was complicated. God, complicated hardly described Ariane's life. He couldn't think of one single word which could convey all the twists her short existence had thrown at her. "Are you sure about this?" He asked simply.  
  
"No. Not without checking Meenotuk's contract, but I'm pretty convinced." He admitted. The pieces fitted too snugly to be wrong. "This girl keeps sneaking up on you, Angel. If I didn't know better I'd think the powers that be had a plan for the two of you." He smirked.  
  
"If I were you, I'd stick to the law. It's what you do best." Angel replied coldly.  
  
"You should see someone about that pathological fear of the female gender. It'll wreck your social life." Lindsey replied with mock seriousness.  
  
Angel muttered something about Lindsey having a smart mouth and how he should take care someone didn't use a smart fist to shut it for him as they walked back to the door.  
  
This time it was Rachel's turn to join them at the door as Angel left. She threaded her arm through Lindsey's and absently drew tiny circles on the tanned skin of his arm. "I'm sorry you couldn't stay longer." She smiled warmly to Angel, "Perhaps next time you could come for dinner?"  
  
"I may take you up on that." Angel replied with a mischievous grin that only Lindsey recognised.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Imzadi: At last! What did you think? And before you ask, no it won't be last you see of him.  
  
Summersfan: Thanks for the compliment. I hope I don't let you down now.  
  
Celtic Cat: Cordy isn't all bad, and she doesn't know Ari like we do. Come to think of it, no one knows the real Ari, yet!  
  
I know this was a long one and I'm sorry I made you wait so long, I hope it was worth it. I've got some serious action planned for the next chapter but I'm afraid you'll have to be patient again. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Angel's drive back to the office was a test in self-control. All he wanted to do was floor the accelerator of the new Chrysler Crossfire he was driving. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that the way his luck was going all he'd get for his impatience would be a speeding ticket and a lecture from a cop young enough to be his great great great grandson. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his joints ached and he could feel his jaw muscles twitching as he ground his teeth together.  
  
He brought the car to a halt at yet another set of traffic lights and managed to prise his tension stiff fingers from the wheel long enough to drum a rhythmless tattoo on the curved dashboard.  
  
Not surprisingly it was Spike who had inspired this bout of frustration. He called just as Angel was pulling out of the parking lot to Lindsey's apartment and as usual he sounded mightily ticked off.  
  
"You better get your fat arse back here and sort out this bloody mess, you thoughtless bastard." Spike spat before Angel could even utter a greeting.  
  
The idea of just hanging up crossed Angel's mind but judging by the tone in Spike's voice and the fact that he wasn't entirely sure which "bloody mess" Spike was referring to, he decided against it.  
  
"Can you hear me, dickhead?" Spike yelled again when Angel didn't answer him.  
  
Angel's face told an age old story, one he had tired of long since. "Loud and clear, unfortunately." He muttered and waited for Spike to lay into him again. He didn't have to wait long.  
  
"Where the hell do you get off?" He ranted, "Ari's gone off on one thanks to you and your gangs little get together." As ever Spike completely disregarded his own participation in their earlier discussion.  
  
"What are you talking about, Spike? Is Ariane okay?" Angel was on the wrong side of furious. The news from Lindsay had been more than enough to push him over the edge of the fine line he had been walking. Added to that, Spike's predisposition for antagonism, all Angel wanted was to take his frustrations out on Spike for no other reason than he could do it without actually killing anyone.  
  
"No, she's not okay. The sky just dropped on her and you ran off like the arse shagging git I always took you for."  
  
"I don't owe you an explanation, Spike." Angel shot back still trying to figure out what Spike had just called him and just how angry he should be about it.  
  
"Bloody useless.... Sodding wanker.... Poof.... Dick fiddling pillow biter..." Spike either didn't hear him or was just on a roll. Angel impatiently waited for him to get to the point, in the dim hope he actually had one.  
  
"I needed answers. God damn it, Spike, shut the hell up." He yelled when there was no let up in the name calling. He knew the justification sounded hollow and pointless but the truth sometimes was just that. He could have made up a better lie but what good would it do?  
  
"Bollocks. Just get back here and fix this, twat." Spike cursed and hung up.  
  
Finally Angel arrived back at the office and pulled the car out of the main street and into a narrow alley which gave entry to the tunnel of his private parking lot. He slammed the gear lever into reverse and slid the car expertly between the viper and the Porsche, then got out and paced impatiently by the elevator door. As the rising box returned him to his office his thoughts turned to how he was going to break the news of Ari's status without making already strained matters worse.  
  
He was surprised when he stepped out of the elevator into his empty office. He had assumed they would all be there waiting for him. He strode out into the lobby and literally bumped into Wesley, who would have fallen flat on his back had Angel not caught him by the arm.  
  
"Ah, you're back." He stammered regaining his balance and looking up at Angel's still stormy expression.  
  
"What's going on, where is everyone?" He asked falling into step beside Wesley and walking toward Gunn's office.  
  
"By everyone do you mean everyone or just Ariane?" He asked with a curious glint in his eye.  
  
"Spike called and chewed me a new one because I left without talking to her." Angel stuffed his hands in his pockets and dropped his head. Anger was abating to be replaced by an odd amalgam of shame and reluctance.  
  
"I haven't seen her since the meeting, so I couldn't say for certain how she is." Wesley commented more interested in the folder he had taken from under his arm and opened.  
  
"Where did she go?" He asked stopping Wes in front of Gunn's office door. The watcher shrugged his shoulders in answer.  
  
"You looking for the incredible vanishing key?" Gunn asked when he noticed them blocking his doorway.  
  
"No, I'm looking for Ariane." He grumbled, making it clear by his tone that he didn't like Gunn's attitude. "Have you seen her?"  
  
"She was around here a while ago, Lorne was driving me nuts singing, 'you are my sunshine.' I think they went to his office." Gunn shifted his attention to Wesley, "Is that the Mantrahana file?"  
  
Angel didn't wait to find out what exactly the Mantrahana file was, he about turned and made for Lorne's office.  
  
Without knocking Angel pushed through Lorne's office door and smacked it straight into Spike's face.  
  
He was in the process of apologising, albeit with a smirk on his face, when Spike nailed him on the jaw then smirked his own pleasure.  
  
"I didn't know you were there." Angel muttered rubbing his bruising chin and eyeing Spike with ferocious hostility.  
  
"Yeah? I don't care, you deserved that. You're barging about here like you own the bloody joint. Which you don't, by the way, you're just the senior partners boy toy." Spike sneered then rubbed at his forehead where the door had connected.  
  
"Didn't you get enough of that on the phone?" Angel retorted more than ready to take Spike on if it meant putting his conversation with Ariane off for a little longer.  
  
"You need me to keep you from getting too big for your britches, Angelus. Speaking of which, your pilling it on a bit aren't you, fat boy?" Spike took several steps around Angel and then waggled his eyebrows with an "I dare you to defend that." look in his cool blue eyes.  
  
Angel squared his shoulders and felt the familiar ache in his jaw return. It was more due to the grinding molars than the lame assed crack Spike had dealt it.  
  
"Did you get the answers you were looking for from the honeymooner, Angel cakes?" Lorne asked hoping to end the handbag swinging contest before it really got going. He sipped at his blue devil cocktail and sighed with pleasure.  
  
"I got answers. I can't say they were the ones I wanted." Angel took a seat on Lorne's empty desk and scratched his head. His body language inadvertently reinforcing his feelings of uncertainty.  
  
"She's not as fragile as you think, Arc-Angel." Lorne's voice was unusually low and serious as he finished his drink.  
  
"She's not made of bloody stone either." Spike added with less diplomacy.  
  
"Where is she?" Angel had put of the inevitable long enough.  
  
"Took her back up stairs." Spike muttered, "She didn't talk, Angel. I mean, she didn't say one word the whole time I was with her."  
  
Angel nodded and stood, walking to the door and leaving without another word.

xxxxxxx

"Thessimus." The King croaked and beaconed with a twisted finger. He lay in the enormous bed, his condition now worsening by the day.  
  
"Yes, my Sovereign." Thessimus approached reluctantly, the stench of death in the room was suffocating.  
  
"What of our plan, has there been progress?" Thessimus scowled at the mention of 'our' plan but wasn't stupid enough to challenge the king. Even dying this man was not to be taken lightly.  
  
"Our men are in place, my Lord. We simply await a convenient opportunity to apprehend the prey." He expressed. His obsequious manner nauseating even himself.  
  
"We have no time to waste, find a way to bring about this opportunity you speak of, and do it quickly." The old man coughed and spluttered then lay gasping for air on the fat pillows behind his shrunken head. "We have already squandered what time we had with Rathlyn's disastrous attempt."  
  
"As you order, so shall I endeavour, your majesty." Thessimus backed away from the bedside, doing his best not to appear hurried. Looking upon the remains of a once strong and magnificent Monarch was a cold reminder of one's own mortality. A reminder Thessimus was reluctant to contemplate.  
  
"Snort!" He yelled as he ran down the corridor and grabbed the small robed man as his pasty grey head appeared around a door. "Prepare the threshold." He spat in Snort's face but cared little about the look of disgust on the pedagogues face.  
  
"As you wish, Sire." Snort replied using the same tone Thessimus had used only seconds before. "You will be travelling to retrieve the key?"  
  
"No, I will bring something else." Thessimus cooed, filled with the romance of his plan. "The key will come to us voluntarily, Snort. She shall open the portal of her own free will."  
  
"But why, my lord?"  
  
"Because, my slow witted scholar, we will posses someone whom she would gladly give her life to save." The sly smile which spread across Thessimus' face was akin to that of a deranged executioner.  
  
Snort shuddered at the expression and scurried like a weasel to make preparations for Thessimus' trip. The sooner he was gone from this dimension, the sooner Snort could relax.  
  
"Slow witted?" He muttered as he scuttled along the dark corridor. "No, Thessimus, not I." He began to hatch a plan of his own, a plan that would have Thessimus running for his life.

xxxxxxx

The room was dark, but Angel's eyes were sharp and the moon was bright enough to show him what he needed to see. She looked so tiny and lost sitting alone on the floor beside the window. Her wheelchair was abandoned at her side. It stood like a cruel reminder, empty and accusing.  
  
"Ariane." His voice was quiet and gentle as he approached her. She didn't move, didn't give him any indication that she had heard him speak at all. He remembered she had always been quiet, but this silence was heavier, ominous somehow.  
  
"I'm sorry I left without talking to you." He apologised and approached her with almost reluctant deliberation. He couldn't understand why he always felt like he was letting her down.  
  
She didn't turn to look at him as he stood over her. She kept her eyes fixed on the view outside the window but Angel had a feeling her focus was on something much closer.  
  
Talking to her seemed to be getting him nowhere so he pushed her wheelchair further away, slid his back down the wall and sat on the floor beside her. He felt her tense as though surprised by him then she relaxed. He put his arm around her shoulders, the contact as much to ease his guilt as it was to reassure her. She shifted slightly, dropping her shoulder until it tucked snugly under his arm and leaned her head against him.  
  
She closed her eyes and within seconds Angel followed suit.

xxxxxxxxx

Rathlyn and five of his trusted honour guard stepped through the portal, returning them to the city of Los Angeles. They emerged inside a disused factory which had been selected as their second point of entry.  
  
Though Rathlyn's hatred of Snort and all other pedagogues was well established, he had not questioned the honesty of the information Snort had given him regarding Thessimus. He was furious, at first with the King. To think that the Sovereign trusted that piece of half-breed scum more than a warrior who had proven his loyalty on the battlefield was a cruel blow to his over developed ego. Anger soon subsided when Rathlyn admitted that he could do nothing to the King, nothing that was that the great ones had not already condemned him too. No, Thessimus was a much more fitting target for his wrath, and one he could eventually unleash his abundant fury upon.  
  
"The King has seen fit to hand responsibility for securing the key to him." Rathlyn mused, "Then all to the good. Let Thessimus see through his convoluted scheme, and I will be there to laugh when it collapses around him." He gave a satisfied grunt at this notion. "There is no question his strategising abilities far exceed my own. Yet still, his treachery will cost him dearly."  
  
Rathlyn spared little time directing his guards to the makeshift barracks. He had told his men to seek out the leaders and inform them of their additional orders. Snort had gleefully enlightened him that, due to the Kings failing health and Thessimus's haste, no one had seen fit to make Thessimus command status official. Rathlyn was about to make that particular oversight work to his advantage.  
  
He made his way along a dimly lit, litter strewn corridor, following the sound of Thessimus's booming voice as he ranted and barked.  
  
"Do not return to me again until you have completed your mission." He yelled, pushing the offending soldier out of the room with a grunt of disgust.  
  
Rathlyn side stepped the Entart and nodded to him in an oddly polite gesture of understanding and sympathy.  
  
"Frustration is an unproductive pursuit, Thessimus. Perhaps you are not cut out for an endeavour such as this? After all, your previous assignments have been purely theoretical have they not?" Rathlyn sneered with something resembling glee.  
  
"Rathlyn." Thessimus spat the name and it did not escape Rathlyn's notice that his title had been omitted. "I assume Snort has informed you of your duties?" Thessimus snarled, attempting unsuccessfully to hold back his rage.  
  
Rathlyn stood firm, but he had to hold himself back from gutting the sack of entrails where he stood. He made do with a single nod of his head. "Indeed, Thessimus, I have been fully enlightened regarding your inventive enterprise. I have but one question."  
  
"Ask it then, for I have no time to waste on idle chatter." Thessimus was livid. Snort had been instructed to tell Rathlyn as little as he could of their plans. He could not conceive of Rathlyn being capable of understanding his strategy but his meddling could be a distraction.  
  
"Where have you hidden your legions?" Rathlyn asked the question with open curiosity. Thessimus was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to give it his full attention.  
  
"Legions?" He retuned. "What possible reason would I need to have legions, let alone hide them? You are confused Rathlyn. My plan to retrieve the key, doesn't not involve large numbers of warriors. I deal in subtlety." He bragged.  
  
"No, Thessimus, I am thinking clearly. I was not referring to your apprehension of the Key. I am more concerned with how you plan to keep her?" By some feat of fate, Rathlyn was able to keep his tone even and controlled.  
  
"Speak plainly Rathlyn, I have little patience for riddles." Thessimus's anger was directed more toward himself than Rathlyn. It had been some time since someone had caught him off guard like this.  
  
"I have seen the one's who have our Key, Thessimus. They may have no choice but to give her up, but they will follow us where ever we take her. We must be prepared for battle." Rathlyn's last words were a command.  
  
"Yes, Rathlyn, you have fought these things. Fought and been vanquished as easily as a mere child, or so I'm told. There are no repercussions I have not considered already. My plan is flawless, it will not fail." Thessimus was shaken and Rathlyn could see it.  
  
"We shall see." He replied sagely. He had sown a seed of doubt and was content to watch it grow. For the time being at least. The sun was shining high in the sky and the long, green grass was swaying in a pleasant breeze. He could smell it, that just after a spring rain shower smell. Lush and vibrant and alive in a way he hadn't experienced in a very long time.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Angel looked down at himself and his eyes widened with surprise. He was wearing white pants and a white shirt, open to reveal his chest. He looked tanned and healthy and ... alive.  
  
He turned in a slow circle, searching for her. He knew she wouldn't be far away and he was right. There she was, about five meters beyond him and walking away. "Wait, she's walking?" He thought  
  
She was striding through the tall grass, her knees rising high and graceful. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed him, a beautiful smile lighting her face, it's warmth challenging the sun itself. He took off after her catching up to her under the shade of a very old willow tree.  
  
"What is this?" He asked her, curious but not concerned. "Am I dreaming?"  
  
"Yes and no." She answered contemplatively but offered no further explanation. She glanced around herself, apparently pleased by her surroundings.  
  
"Are you doing this?"  
  
"Yes." She replied without elaborating as to how.  
  
"I don't ..... Are you okay? You haven't flipped out or something have you?" He enquired looking around him and wondering if he could have been sucked into her madness, like a swimmer caught by the tide.  
  
"Flipped out?" She turned to him with confusion in her eyes then caught his meaning. "You think I'm mad? No, Angel, I am not mad. I come here sometimes, to find peace and to think. I thought you could use some of that too and you did say we needed to talk."  
  
Out of nowhere a blanket appeared on the ground at their feet and Ariane dropped on to it casually, looking up at him, inviting him to join her.  
  
"Couldn't we just do this the old fashioned way?" He felt a little out of his element standing in the bright sunlight. He shifted uncomfortably, alternating his gaze between Ari and the amazingly realistic surroundings she had created.  
  
"We won't be disturbed here. If you are truly uncomfortable, you can go back." She gave him the opportunity to leave but silently prayed he wouldn't take it.  
  
Angel fought a war between leaving and staying. Something in her comment made him wary.  
  
"You're not going back, are you?"  
  
"Not right now, no." She lay back on the blanket and gazed at the inconceivably blue sky and sighed. Right this minute she couldn't think of anything she had to return for.  
  
"What is this place?" He asked taking a seat close to her and leaning his back on the rough bark of the tree. He recognised the place but knew he had never actually been there before.  
  
"It is the west meadow of Lord Meenotuk's manor. If you look over to your left you will see his palace, or a fair representation." She informed him. "Do you like it?"  
  
"I guess so." He replied without much conviction. He was a creature of the night and as a rule he wasn't entirely "happy" in bright sunlight. "Ari, I ..."  
  
"What exactly am I, Angel?" She asked interrupting him with the very question he didn't want to answer.  
  
She rolled swiftly on to her side and then onto her stomach, placing her chin on his knee and raising her soft pink little feet to the sky. She didn't look angry or hurt, only curious.  
  
She looked like any happy, twenty something girl with her whole life ahead of her should look. There was a resentment deep in Angel somewhere that cried out for someone to blame that Ariane wasn't just that.  
  
"Em, I..." He stammered, He had forgotten just what it was like to be caught in the blue fire of her eyes. "I'm not sure." He fibbed.  
  
"Angel, it's impossible to lie to me here. You're inside my head." She replied matter of factly. She laughed at his look of horror and shook her head. "There's no need to worry. It's just like it was when I showed you my visions. If you wish to leave, just open your eyes. I don't control your will Angel. You wanted to talk, I just brought you somewhere I'd feel more comfortable. Everything back there is so .." She paused for a second and thought of a word to fully describe her position. "loud." She finally settled on.  
  
"You can't hide here forever." He informed her even though he wasn't sure if that was true or not. He figured if she really wanted to, she could stay here indefinitely.  
  
"I have no intention of hiding, Angel. I think I've done enough of that already. I just needed some time." She explained and her eyes pleaded for his indulgence.  
  
"I'm sorry, about today." He knew that was part of the reason she felt the need to crawl into her own head. On the other hand, he wouldn't have taken a bet that it was the only reason.  
  
"Please, Angel, don't apologise. I don't deserve it." She pushed herself up and sat cross-legged facing him, looking troubled.  
  
"And how do you work that one out?"  
  
"Is it so easy for you to discount the gun wielding demon intent on killing you? I feel responsible, you almost died."  
  
"Ari, I was dead long before you met me." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. Sometimes she was more mule-headed than Spike. "How many times am I going to have to tell you I don't blame you for what happened that day? You're going to have to stop punishing yourself."  
  
"You would be speaking from a position of great experience. I take it you have given up that particular pastime?" She raised a single eyebrow in challenge.  
  
"I left myself wide open for that one, didn't I?" He chuckled.  
  
"Mm-hmm." She nodded and a shy smile flitted across her face. Something about the way she looked, bathed in sunshine with a soft blush in her cheeks made Angel smile inside. Then he sobered and reminded himself of where he was and what she could do. He wasn't sure if he was really feeling what he thought he was feeling.  
  
"Why did you leave the meeting today?" Diversion was always a good ploy when you felt trapped. He did have to find some way to talk about the situation they found themselves in and he got the feeling he was going to have to be the one to bring it up. He figured he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear her say it.  
  
"I'm sorry. I had heard enough. It's not easy listening to people talk about you like that, Angel. I thought I was used to it with Meenotuk, but I was wrong. I've become accustomed to being treated like a human being, not like an object. I think I'll have to work on that."  
  
"What makes you think you're not human?" He was taken by surprise, her humanity wasn't something Angel thought was in question. Did being a key mean she wasn't human? It was a question he hadn't thought to ask.  
  
"Just give them the key and let them go about their business." Ariane repeated Cordelia's words from earlier and cocked her head to the side waiting for his defence. "That's not exactly a standard response if the person in question is truly a "person", Angel."  
  
"Cordy didn't mean it like that, she's just...."  
  
"Suspicious, angry, resentful. I know what she is, Angel. I'm aware of how she feels, and before you jump to the wrong conclusion, I haven't read her or anyone else for that matter."  
  
"You've been busy." It was a statement not a question. Angel could tell she wasn't keeping up by the look in her eyes. "You're not doing that thing you did before." He attempted to clarify and mentally took note that perhaps what he had felt earlier was genuine. He wasn't sure if he was more pleased by that or bothered.  
  
"No, not anymore." She replied interrupting his thoughts, "I've been working on ways to suppress my abilities since ... well, for a while now. After my, er, after I got shot I was too weak to do much of anything. I managed to restrain my gift's before I was strong enough to hurt anyone else. I slip up sometimes, but most of the time I'm able to hold everything back." Her voice was quiet and afraid. She needed him to trust her on this, but trusting her was something she felt was beyond him now.  
  
"Why didn't you control it before?"  
  
"I have no excuse, Angel." She began before he cut her off.  
  
"I'm not asking for excuses, Ari. I just want to understand." He took her hand and squeezed it gently to show his sincerity.  
  
"I hadn't been around people for a long time. I wasn't fully aware of how my feelings affected everyone. I knew it was something I did, I just didn't understand how it worked, so I couldn't stop it. I didn't know it could hurt anyone, Angel, please believe me." Ari's voice trembled and she searched his face for some sign hope.  
  
"I do. I just need to know one thing. Were they your feelings for us that got enhanced, or our feelings for you?"  
  
"I've asked myself the same question, Angel and I still have no definite answer. If forced I would have to say they were my own feelings, but that is only a guess. If that were not the case, why would Meenotuk have found it necessary to exile me?" She gave a shudder and her eyes shifted swiftly from Angel's face to the building and back again as though her mere presence there reminded her of her first masters torture.  
  
"I thought I understood why Meenotuk separated me from the others in the gathering. He told me it was because my ugliness made people uncomfortable. I think he knew I would spread those feelings to the others if he had let me wander freely. It was the kindest thing he ever did for me. I only wish he had left me there and never offered me to you at all. It would have spared all of you so much pain and hardship."  
  
The thing that surprised Angel most was Ari's lack of self-pity. She didn't sound the least bit sorry for herself, just sorry for what she had put them through.  
  
"Meenotuk was a vile son of a bitch who deserved everything he got and more besides. I'm just sorry it wasn't me who killed him. The only thing he did right was bring you to me." Angel felt his face flush, "Oh, hell what did I say that for?" He cursed himself.  
  
"You believe that even after everything that happened?" Ariane asked searching his face with a look of amazement.  
  
"You just got through telling me I can't lie to you here, so I'm going to say this for the last time. Mark Savage, Meenotuk and Skip the revenge crazy demon set us all up. They were using you as a distraction. Problem was, you got in their way. You stopped Skip from killing me that night but you're so damned caught up thinking I'm mad at you that you can't see I'm grateful." He took her chin in his strong hand and gazed deep into her. He only hoped his brown eyes told her all her baby blues managed to tell him.  
  
""I wanted to give my life to save to save you." She said, her voice choked with emotion.  
  
"Thanks, but I think I like this better." He replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt himself leaning toward her. Their faces were only inches apart and he could feel her warm breath on his lips.  
  
"Angel, I shouldn't ..." She broke his hypnosis with her words and he dropped his hand, cursing madly in his head.  
  
"She shouldn't. OF course she shouldn't, she's living with someone, for god sake. Rob, the tennis instructor or what ever the hell he is." He ranted to himself.  
  
"I don't know what to say." She confessed. All she needed was to have Cordelia on her back for kissing Angel, even if it was a "virtual" experience. She could help but wonder if she had dropped her guard and was making Angel have feeling for her? She couldn't let that happen. Cordelia and Angel were meant to be together, she wouldn't get in the way no matter how she longed to.  
  
"Why don't you look at it this way, if you hadn't been the person you are, I'd be dust. Fred and Wes would still be tip toeing around each other and Spike and Lorne wouldn't spend so much time together. Then again, scrub the last one, the other stuff was good." He rambled, attempting to cover his embarrassment.  
  
"But I ...."  
  
"I don't want to discuss this again, Ariane. If you really push me I'll make it an order."  
  
"As you wish, Master." She replied softly with a hint of her old mischievousness.  
  
He nodded, glad she had accepted his statement of vindication. "Okay, now that's out of the way I've got some questions of my own."  
  
"Down to business." He thought and prayed he could keep his mind on the right track.  
  
"I am yours to command." She bowed her head in a way that took him back to their first encounter and he couldn't help but smile again.  
  
"Did the Myoran's tell you what they wanted you for?"  
  
"No, they spoke very little. Their time was fully occupied trying to get me thought the portal. I got some information from Granlar, the one you hold captive. As Wesley pointed out, their King believes I can fulfil a prophecy. Granlar believes I will bring disaster to his world. I'm more disposed to that opinion, disaster appears to be my particular gift." She added with a humourless smile.  
  
"Ari, you have a lot of gift's," He dropped his eyes not willing to let her see he was referring to more than just her psychic abilities. "but I don't think causing disaster is one of them."  
  
"I think you are mistaken but I thank you for your kindness, however misguided."  
  
"Do you think it's over?" As difficult as it was to keep his delinquent eyes from gazing at her, he was managing to keep to the subject at hand.  
  
"No, and neither do you. I haven't seen anything if that is what you're asking. I told you before, I don't see my own fate unless it is entwined with someone else's."  
  
He nodded slowly and became introspective his head turning away from her back toward Meenotuk's palace.  
  
While his attention was elsewhere, Ariane's own awareness was diverted. She was being assaulted by a strange vision of more Myoran warriors. Some ransacking an apartment and more assaulting some apparently innocent demons.  
  
She turned to him quickly and touched his arm to alert him, "We should return. Cordelia is looking for you." She didn't wait for him to reply, instantly he was back in his apartment sitting in the dark, on the floor by the window.  
  
"Wow, little more notice before you do that next time?" He laughed as he blinked at the sudden change in environment. He turned to look at her and his expression changed.  
  
She looked back at him with a weak smile, her face ash grey in the moon light. Her eyes narrowed and she winced as she shifted on the floor, pushing herself from her position on his shoulder. Her back gave an audible crack and her eyes closed against the pain.  
  
"Are you okay?" Angel asked even though the answer blatantly obvious but having no other option.  
  
She nodded her head, still sporting the same strained smile. "Paying the price for bad posture." She informed him and pointed toward her wheelchair.  
  
He pulled it to him and lifted her from the floor as gently as he could. She sucked in a shuddery breath and her arms tightened around him but she said nothing.  
  
"Does it always hurt like this?" He asked wondering how she bore it without any help.  
  
"No." She answered. When his look told her he wasn't satisfied, she elaborated. "It's not always this bad."  
  
"But it always hurts?"  
  
"Yes." She admitted reluctantly.  
  
His look of pity was almost enough to break her heart.

xxxxxxxx

Sorry about the wait you guy's but family and work commitments have meant a change in my routine. Be prepared for shorter chapters. I'll try not to take so long with them in future.  
  
Celtic Cat: Thanks for your continued support. I don' t know where I'd be without you. As for Rob, is it any of Angel's business who he's sleeping with?  
  
Imzadi: Knowing you are out there keeps me going. I don't want to let you down or leave you without your Lindsey fix for too long. I tried to make Rachel as nice as I could without her being OTT. I'm sure I can find another place for her if you really want me to?  
  
The Others: Thank you, again. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Standing by the weapons cabinet with his hands holding both doors open, Angel could have been mistaken for simply perusing his vast collection of armaments. He could have been, but only to the untrained eye. There was a stiffness in his shoulders, a rigidity in his spine and a definite aura of foreboding surrounding him.  
  
"Has anyone seen my Claymore?" He asked turning menacingly from his position by the open cabinet and pointedly glaring at Spike who was slumped in a chair in front of Angel's desk looking less than interested.  
  
"How can you loose a four foot sword?" Spike scoffed with a sly grin as he picked at his fingernails with a decorative dagger. "Getting a bit forgetful in your old age, poofter, or is it just careless?" He hissed when the sharp blade slipped and drew blood.  
  
"_I_ haven't lost anything, and there's nothing wrong with my memory either. You were the last one with it, Spike. So where the hell is my sword?" Angel abandoned the weapons cabinet completely and loomed over Spike who gazed, lazily up at him with utter contempt as he sucked his wounded thumb.  
  
"Oops, sorry mate, how could I miss that? There it was down the leg of my pants the whole time." Spike replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He didn't appear to be in the least bit put out by the gently simmering rage written all over Angel's features.  
  
Ordinarily he wouldn't have been overly bothered about a missing weapon. This sword however was an exception. He had only received the custom made Claymore a few days previous and had yet to swing it himself. It was bought as a replacement for one which Spike had managed to trash as only Spike could. He shattered the blade on a sacrificial obelisk. Okay, so he decapitated an evil cult's crazy high priest in the process, but the Claymore was toast none the less.  
  
The new sword was less of a weapon and more a work of art. It was made of the purest steel and had the old Angel Investigation logo etched into the hilt and Angel's beloved Claddagh symbol worked into the pommel. It had been shipped all the way from the Isle of Skye in the highlands of Scotland. The shipping alone cost more than Spike's monthly rent.  
  
"Last chance, Pointy. What have you done with my Claymore?" Angel growled inching ever closer to Spike's infuriatingly impassive face. If it hadn't been for the flicker of irritation he caught in Spike's eyes, Angel would have presumed he had missed the reference altogether.  
  
"You don't have to throw a bloody fit, ponce, and don't call me, Pointy either." Spike shot back loudly and shook his head. "It's downstairs in the practice room." He sulked openly then retorted again. "I think someone who needs a sword that big is compensating for something lacking else where." He mocked, raising a snigger from Gunn in the process.  
  
"I think someone who make as much noise as you do is compensating for a lack intelligence." Angel muttered as he made for the door. "Anyway, you were the one who stole it, what does that say about you? Suffering from sword envy, Spike?"  
  
"Prick." Spike replied with a scowl.  
  
"Glad to see you get my point." Angel twitched a mocking eyebrow and turned to the other occupants of the room sporting a rather self satisfied grin. "Gunn you're with me. Wes, you and Spike check out the apartment. Oh and Wes, if you manage to lose him on the way home, I won't complain." Angel ignored Spike's continued jibes but turned before he left the room when he caught sight of Cordelia loitering by the weapons cabinet.  
  
"And where do you think you're going with that?" Angel asked as she made to walk by him, swinging a small but wicked looking axe with less regard than she would have given to a Prada handbag. He snatched it from her grasp and held it high out of her reach.  
  
"I'm coming with you, I need the practice." She replied snatching at the axe then scowling at him and attempting to return to the cabinet for a replacement weapon.  
  
"Oh no you're not." Angel shook his head and caught her with his free hand, forcing her to walk in a wide arc back toward the doorway. Just for good measure he patted her backside with the flat of the axe and propelled her through the door a little more quickly than she was happy with.  
  
"I'm not just going to hang around here while you guys go off and hog all the fun for your selves. What's the use in being 'vision girl' if I don't get to slay the bad guys once in a while?" She sulked from outside in the lobby rubbing her rear with exaggerated vigour.  
  
"I need you to do something for me." Angel replied, following her out the door.  
  
"It better be good." She rounded on him with a raised eyebrow then fisted her hands and placed one on each hip with practiced precision.

xxxxxxxxxx

"No more." Rob said sternly, trying to sound convincing. He fell somewhat short and Jamie, like every child, sensed weakness like a shark senses blood in the water.  
  
"Mummy won't find out, I won't tell." He replied sincerely, turning his huge, warm, lash lined eyes on Rob and waiting for them to work their particular brand of magic.  
  
"Jamie, please don't do this to me? I can't give you any more ice cream, I just can't." Rob whined. He stopped short of actually begging but it was only pride which kept him from it.  
  
"Okay, then I get to spend the night in An... Ariane's room." He certainly was his fathers son. Negotiations were already his forte.  
  
"Fine. With all the candy and ice cream you've eaten I'll be sleeping before you will anyway." Rob conceded defeat, grateful to have survived the battle without tears. His own that was.  
  
"He was a nice man, I think he likes her." Jamie's conversational leaps always left Rob feeling slightly lost and he gave his step brother a quizzical look to convey his confusion. However, Jamie's attention was on four green, smart talking ninja mutants capering across the wide screen TV.  
  
"Who was nice and who likes who?" Rob stepped in between Jamie and the TV and got a scowl for his efforts.  
  
"Mr Angel." Jamie replied rolling his eyes as if that should have been obvious.  
  
"Yes, he was very, em, nice." Rob replied a little too shortly. He had wanted to keep his feelings to himself. Jamie sometimes seemed like a forty year old but he wasn't.  
  
"Are you fibbing, Uncle Rob?" Jamie's eyes lit up and he forgot about the turtle's adventures for a second.  
  
"No, of course not." He should have known his ploy wouldn't work. "It's getting really late, Jay. You should be in bed."  
  
"You said I could stay up until the turtles were finished." This time it was Jamie's turn to plead, still he had a very adult gleam in his eyes.  
  
"That was before I knew it was a 24 hour marathon, you devious little monster. It's time for bed." Rob stooped and scooped Jamie from the floor and took the grumbling three year old into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Babysitting, Fred!" Cordelia seethed as she paced back and forth in Fred's office.  
  
"Hmm?" Fred looked away from her screen long enough to check her clip board and little else.  
  
"Angel." She spat and threw an arm in the general direction of the ceiling and Angel's office, apartment and anything else on the floors above R&D. "He left me here to keep an eye on the ... dungeon master."  
  
"The what?" Fred muttered only half listening.  
  
"Dungeon master." She repeated, irked that Fred wasn't giving her plight her complete attention.  
  
Fred shrugged and made an "I have no idea what you're talking about" face.  
  
"Small, annoying little troll who talks in riddles and always appears just before trouble starts." Cordy raised her eyebrows then heaved a heavy sigh and waited for Fred to catch on.  
  
"Riiiight." Fred drew the word out. She knew who dungeon master was, she just didn't know where he fitted in Cordelia's current crisis. "Angel probably thinks you and Ariane need to bury the hatchet." She replied with her eyes again, firmly fixed on her screen.  
  
"He took if off me." Cordy complained crossing her arms with a slightly childish huff.  
  
"What? Oh, I mean, er, maybe Angel thinks you and Ari need to talk?" Fred sighed and pushed her keyboard away, knowing she was unlikely to do anything constructive until she got rid of Cordelia and there was only one way she could think of to accomplish that.  
  
"Couldn't we just detest each other from a distance in stead?" Cordelia dropped dejectedly into the lone chair in front of Fred's desk with another great sigh.  
  
"Sure you could." Fred shrugged. "I just thought you'd like the chance to face Ariane without Angel or Spike around to protect her? But it's your call."  
  
"Then again, this could be my chance to talk to the little witch without Angel or Spike around to save her." Cordelia sat forward sharply and her face took on a sly grin as she rose out the chair and headed out the door.  
  
"Why didn't I think of that?" Fred muttered to the empty room then pulled the keyboard toward her and got back to work.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

"What do you think they were doing here?" Wesley asked Spike as he wandered through the litter of still twitching Myoran bodies.  
  
"Damned if I know." Spike muttered and shrugged, wiping gore from the blade of his sword on a strip of dead Myoran's tunic.  
  
"It all seemed very, well, senseless." Wes shrugged mostly himself and surveyed the scene. He prodded a body which was slumped over an old table with the tip of the quarrel in his loaded crossbow.  
  
The apartment was a shambles. The sofa was overturned and slashed beyond all recognition. The old TV was lying on its side with the tube smashed. Broken glass, foam chips and bodies littered the livid purple, swirl patterned carpet. Even though the room was a mess it was obvious from the stale smell and thick coating of dust and cobwebs that this place had been empty for some time. The problem with that was, the apartment was in its current state of distress when Spike and Wes had arrived. Minus the bodies of course.  
  
"What's going on under that bad hair cut, Watcher?" Spike questioned, he could almost hear the cogs turning.  
  
"Hmm?" Wes replied deep in thought.  
  
"Houston, we have a problem. We've lost Percy." Spike swung his sword onto his shoulder and sauntered out of the hole in wall where the apartment door used to live.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Harmony was sitting at the boardroom table gazing out of the window and checking her watch every couple of minutes. If someone didn't come along to relieve her soon there would be no point in going home at all.  
  
"There's no need to wait, Harmony." Ariane looked at her over the screen of her open laptop from the opposite side of the long table. She gave the blonde vampire a gentle, apologetic smile.  
  
"I'm not supposed to leave you on your own." She shrugged an apology of her own and resumed her sky gazing, drumming her freshly painted nails on the highly polished tabletop.  
  
Ari returned her own attention back to the spreadsheet she was working on and began deftly typing again.  
  
Both women jumped when the door opened and Cordelia strode in looking stormy but strikingly beautiful none the less.  
  
"Looking for overtime, Harm?" She enquired flashing her old friend a glance even a blind man could read.  
  
"Just waiting for you to get here, Cordy." Harmony was out of the chair in a flash. "See ya." She called over her shoulder. She collected her purse from her desk, cursing when the strap snagged. She gave the offending accessory a quick yank then all but ran to the elevator.  
  
"Something important?" Cordelia asked Ariane, rounding the table and walking up behind her to glance at the computer.  
  
"Nothing vital...., Miss Chase." Ari replied politely as her arms broke into goose flesh with apprehension. She waited until Cordelia had seen all she wanted to then closed the file and shut down the computer. The last thing Ari needed was Cordelia thinking she had anything else to hide.  
  
"Why so formal all of a sudden?" Cordy asked with crisp civility, not quite cold enough to be construed as openly hostile. "We're all friends here, right?"  
  
Ariane swallowed hard but kept her face expressionless, one wrong look or word could spell disaster. The comparisons to conversations she had had with Lord Meenotuk were hard to shake.  
  
"Angel thinks we need to talk." Cordy broke into her thoughts when she got no immediate reaction from Ariane.  
  
"Yes?" Ariane wasn't ready for this conversation but as ever it was out of her hands.  
  
"Everyone thinks I should give you a chance."  
  
"Mmm." Ari nodded and allowed her eyes to make fleeting contact with Cordelia's for the first time.  
  
"I think you're trouble." Cordelia was rounding the table.  
  
"I think you're right." Ari agreed, her eyes tracking Cordy's every move.  
  
"Is that so? So what are you doing here?" Cordy sat down slowly in the seat Harmony had vacated and waited for the younger woman to reply with a sly glint in her brown eyes.  
  
"My options were somewhat limited as I recall." Ari's response was quietly spoken but her eyes betrayed her unease.  
  
Cordelia was surprised and more than a little disappointed. She had at least thought the other woman would have proved to be a little better competition. Still, it wasn't like she had never dealt with anyone like Ari before. Sunnydale had given her a superb education.  
  
"I'll give you that." She nodded slowly remembering the circumstances of Ariane's arrival. Ari had apparently misinterpreted her question but the obvious signs of anxiety gave Cordelia all the incentive she needed. "Where do you think all this, Sister Ariane of the immaculate intentions, act is going to get you?"  
  
"Excuse me?" There was no sarcasm in Ari's question. Not surprisingly she hadn't understood much of Cordy's cloaked enquiry.  
  
"If you think you're going to work your way into Angel's affections with this Saint show, you're making a big mistake." Cordelia spoke every word with chilling precision, her temper was beginning to rise. She had already decided Ariane was a slippery customer but she was playing the innocent card way too often and it was beginning to rankle.  
  
Ari couldn't believe her ears. How could Cordelia believe her own gullibility could draw Angel's affection? If pervious experience had taught her anything it was that her own submissive nature irritated Angel rather than attracted him. She was amazed that anyone could think Angel would be attracted to her when he already had everything he wanted in Cordelia? It slowly dawned on Ari that it was both her manner and her presence which Cordelia disliked. They were such opposites. Cordelia, self assured and assertive, Ariane, shy and passive. The thought that Cordelia could feel threatened by her was more than Ari could comprehend.  
  
"Angel's affections? Miss Chase, even if I thought it possible I would, would never seek to win Angel's heart in such a way." Ari's words caught her throat as she tried to pacify Cordelia and assure her that she wasn't interested in fighting her for Angel's love. Her hesitation only made Cordelia even more furious.  
  
"Yeah, right!" Cordy scoffed, her eyes blazing at what she thought was a blatant lie. "How stupid do you think I am? I've seen the way you look at him, it's nauseating."  
  
Ariane's mind was reeling with Cordelia's harsh and cutting words. In her heart she believed after what she had done to Angel, all of his friends had the right to despise her. She just couldn't understand why Cordelia, of all people, would feel the need to be so bitter. Angel's words of forgiveness echoed in her head and she took some comfort from them. If he was willing to accept her, that was more than she could have prayed for. She clutched at that solitary consolation like a drowning man would cling to driftwood.  
  
"I'm sorry." Ari whispered as she fought to control her tears from spilling unsanctioned down her pale cheeks. The two words seemed to sum up everything she wanted to say to Cordelia.  
  
"Damned right you are." Cordelia wasn't fazed by the waterworks. "Angel might fall for your poor, little girl tears, Ariane. I'm a little harder to convince."  
  
"I wasn't aware that I was here to convince you of anything." Ari replied sniffing back her tears. Now there was a trace of the feisty little beast Meenotuk had taken such great pleasure torturing.  
  
"What did you think you were here for, exactly?" Cordelia asked returning to her first question. Hoping maybe this time she would get a straight answer.  
  
Ari's eyes pleaded with Cordelia's for some small measure of compassion. All she got in return was the passionate fire of someone who would fight to the death to protect her friends.  
  
"Sanctuary." She replied simply. She had meant to say more but her throat seemed incapable of making more sound.  
  
"Great, Quasimodo, but all we get for the privilege of keeping you safe is more trouble. And in case it escaped your attention, we already have enough of that to deal with."  
  
Ari had had enough. She sucked in a deep breath and held it long enough to steady her voice but not her jangling nerves.  
  
"If you feel threatened by my presence here, feel free to take the matter up with Angel at your earliest convenience. It was his idea to keep me here, not mine. Rest assured that when my current situation is resolved I will be on my way. I didn't ask for this, I don't like being so close to him any more than you want me to be, perhaps even less." She took another shuddering breath and continued before Cordelia could interrupt her.  
  
"What you seem to be missing is exactly how terrified I am just being in this building again. I'm not innocent but I'm not stupid either. I know what I am and what I did and how dangerous I am to be around. You don't have to worry, I won't make the same mistake twice. You don't like me, that much is plain. You don't trust me, and I can't blame you for that, but my feelings for Angel are none of your business, Miss Chase. As for Angel? You should trust him to look after himself." Ari's blue eyes were blazing white hot by the time she finished her tirade but they were nothing compared to Cordelia's.  
  
"So, the little kitten shows her claws at last." She chuffed snide laughter and lounged back casually in her chair, giving Ari the impression she had just played right into Cordelia's hands. "Now you've had your say I can have mine."  
  
Cordy stood and walked slowly and silently around the table. She pulled out the chair next to Ari, but instead of sitting in it she perched on the table and glared down on Ari like a ravenous hawk.  
  
"You're right, you don't fool me, and you never have. Maybe I don't know everything there is to know about you, but I sure as hell know enough that I want you as far from here as you can get. Not that it's any of your business but I'd trust Angel with my life, have done several times. He's tough on the outside but his heart's as fragile as Ming china, and it's my job to watch out for him. I know you think you're in love with Angel. Hell, honey, all of us have felt that way about him at one time or other. Me, I'm about as close to him as any woman ever has been and I can tell you, he's out of your league, Miss Smith. I wasn't around to protect Angel when you showed up last time but I'm here now and I won't let you hurt him again. Him or anyone else."  
  
Ari listened, her cheeks flushed with repressed emotion but her expression impassive. It was impossible for Cordy to detect her mood until she next spoke.  
  
"This is funny." Finally, she showed what she was feeling, however unexpected. Ari laughed and shook her head, dropping her eyes to her neatly clasped hands.  
  
"I don't see it." Cordelia shot back, her tone somewhere between anger and confusion.  
  
"We're arguing on the same side." Ari said with a bitter sigh. "We both want what's best for Angel, and we both know I'm not it. I'm a complication he doesn't need in his life. I know how he felt about you before. I know how strong his love is for you. You should have more faith in that, I know Angel does. I could never give him what he deserves. I could never be the kind of woman he needs. You're right, he is out of my league. You were only wrong about one thing. I never believed I was anything else."  
  
"You're not denying you love him?" Cordelia asked her wariness subsiding albeit slowly.  
  
"I tried to once but I don't think I can anymore, not since I've seen him again. What would be the point in lying to myself? I'm no better at that than I am at lying to anyone else. I'd love to be the kind of woman he needs." Ari replied, her voice gentle and wistful. "But I am only myself and he deserves better. The best." She gave Cordelia a watery smile then added a bow of her head, like a bested knight saluting his defeater.  
  
"You mean t tell me you're not going to make a play for him?" Cordelia couldn't disguise her disbelief.  
  
"A play for him?" Ari asked confused.  
  
"Yeah, as in show him how you feel and see if he feels the same way? Jeez, what planet are you from?"  
  
"I couldn't show him how I feel. I did once and it almost killed both of us, remember?"  
  
"Then maybe you don't love him as much as you think you do? If you did you'd fight for him." Cordelia cocked her head to one side and gave Ari a quizzical look.  
  
"Then again, perhaps I value him too much to burden him with a penance like myself." Ariane replied. She couldn't understand where Cordelia was going with this. First she didn't want her any where near Angel. Now she was teasing her because she wouldn't fight for him. "What does she want from me?" She wondered.  
  
"Somebody really did a number on your self confidence, didn't they?" Cordelia quipped. "So what, you're going to become a nun because you don't think you're good enough for Angel? Hate to burst your bubble, sweetie, but Angel ain't exactly all that and a bag of potato chips. He comes with a centuries worth of baggage. Not to mention the whole gypsy curse, moment of pure happiness, pop goes the soul and fang type chaos ensues thing. Then you have the age difference and the lack of day light dating. Angel's not what I'd call great boyfriend material."  
  
Ariane did her best to keep up with Cordelia's run on sentences, but it was an up hill struggle.  
  
Cordelia shook her head when Ari looked back at her blankly. She had to admit it was pretty tough taking in all that had been said and more to the point, what hadn't been. "I'm guessing this has been pretty tough on you? Being so close to him like this?"  
  
"Understatement!" Ari thought to herself. "It could be worse." She lied.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. You really need to work on your delivery, its way weak." Cordelia laughed. "She really is as bad a liar as everyone said she was." She thought shaking her head and wondering how she could have made such a mistake in the first place.  
  
It wasn't like they were ever likely to be close friends, but Cordelia was warming to the girl in spite of her initial misgivings. It could be a trick but she was pretty sure she was in complete control of her emotions. She had felt the weird dichotomy when Ari had lost it in the medical wing and she didn't feel it now.  
  
Ari laughed too and their two voices mingled together agreeably The sound was not unpleasant. In fact it was the welcomest sound Ariane had experienced since hearing Angel's voice come out of the darkness.  
  
This time when the visions came they were so intense both women screamed their fear and horror in unison.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"We weren't doin nuthin'." The scaly demon tried to make himself understood from behind the grubby shirttail he was holding to his bleeding nose.  
  
"Besides murder the English language you mean?" Gunn commented, "You want me to believe these guys just came out of nowhere and started whaling on you for doing 'nuthin'?"  
  
"Yeah, man. Gripper's right, we wasn't goin' to break into that store, we was just window shoppin'." Gripper dropped his shirt tail and landed a punch in his friends face to shut him up.  
  
"Ratso's just confused, Mister." Gripper informed Gunn as Ratso cursed and held his now swelling eye.  
  
"Looks it." Gunn looked to Angel for help, he was getting nowhere questioning, dumb and dumber.  
  
"What's wrong with this picture?" Angel muttered, ignoring the pair of battered demons as he sat on the hood of his car and folded his arms his face a picture of concentration.  
  
Gunn turned his head in a slow arc and tried to see what Angel was seeing. "No bodies." He concluded, "They could have killed these morons in seconds, so why didn't they?"  
  
"What ever they were here for, they're long gone now. We're not going to learn anything standing around here." Angel muttered with frustration simmering close to the surface, he pushed himself from the hood and Gunn took the hint.  
  
"Back to the bat cave?" Gunn asked as he pulled opened the car door. He regretted it immediately.  
  
"You need to get out more." Angel shook his head and pulled the car away from the curb with a squeal of tires.  
  
"Who were those guy's?" Ratso looked up at Gripper with his one good eye as the sleek silver sports car sped down the street.  
  
"Dunno, but I heard one of them say bat cave." Gripper replied.  
  
"Wow." Ratso sighed his face filled with something resembling awe.

xxxxxxxxx

Thessimus was in raptures as he hissed and spat orders to his remaining men. Planning was one thing, but there was nothing to beat the thrill of co-ordinating an operation. It was a feeling for which he had yet to find an equal.  
  
It seemed that every minute a warrior returned with news of the smooth running of his plan.  
  
"Let Rathlyn scoff when the King has the key." He spoke aloud, giving no thought to the men in the room with him. They were insignificant, their opinion of no consequence.  
  
All that interested Thessimus was the satisfactory conclusion of his scheme. With that he could make some demands of his own and the King would not be in a position to refuse. "Please the great ones to take Rathlyn now and save me the trouble of killing him later."  
  
"Er, Sire?" The soldier who had entered at Thessimus' back addressed him, unaware that the conversation was one sided by design.  
  
"What news?" Thessimus barked. His sneering expression made the man take a backward step. Thessimus was unaware just how unstable he appeared.  
  
"Supreme Rathlyn sends word that his mission was a success, Supreme Thessimus." The young warrior stammered.  
  
"Is he proceeding to the second location?" He smirked. Use of the title Supreme had pleased him immensely.  
  
"Yes, Sire. He is taking up position as we speak."  
  
Thessimus beaconed to a hooded figure who had been standing in the deepest shadows of the room. "Is the portal ready?"  
  
"All is in readiness." The figure bowed his head in acknowledgement.  
  
"I am I to return with orders to advance, Lord?" The waiting warrior enquired.  
  
"Yes." Thessimus hissed triumphantly.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Jamie let out a scream which was swiftly cut short by a massive grey/black hand. He was swept from the bed, covers and all and tucked under the arm of an enormous monster.  
  
The monster was running toward the door when a voice stopped him.  
  
"Give me the child." Rathlyn growled and held out his arms for Jamie. The warrior responded without question. "Make sure the other one is secure and then have the others return to the meeting point. We must be gone from here without delay."  
  
Rathlyn trotted out of the door and down the tree lined path with Jamie under his arm like a football. The child was blessedly quiet and he took time to check for signs of life before he bounded through the shimmering portal and back to Th'hesela.

xxxxxxx

Apologies: Sorry for the delay. I had my very own personal apocalypse to deal with which ended rather badly. I'm back now and things are looking better so fingers crossed the next chapter won't be too far behind.  
  
Imzadi: I've thought of a way to draw your hero back in. It should be interesting, at least I hope it will be.  
  
Celtic Cat: I kind of hate both Thessimus and Rathlyn right now. As for their demise, wait and see (Cue evil laughter).  
  
Anna Nemus: Thank you very much for your review. I am very sorry if you feel the story is flat, as you can imagine that isn't my intention. In answer to your question regarding Ariane, no, she is not, nor will she ever be an Angel character. If you feel you need more insight into her origins please read "Angel's Gift" which was my first fic. Given your previous comments I both hope for and dread to hear your opinion, though I know it can only help in the long run. Oh, and I have no intentions of quitting until I wrap this one up. I think I owe you guys that much and more. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Ariane wasn't aware she was holding her breath until she felt her lungs burning, screaming at her for oxygen. She didn't want to inhale. She wanted to freeze the moment until she could think of a way to change it back. Suspending the instant would give her the opportunity to strip the vision of its emotion and break it down into something she could deal with. That way she didn't have to tackle the shocking truth of Jamie's abduction. That way she could find a way to put it right.

But her body's infuriating need for air aside, Ari was incapable of holding back time. Cordelia was already busying herself with the standard vision reporting ritual that was now so commonplace in her life. She swept round the table and made straight for the phone without sparing Ari a single glance. This was what she did. This was how Cordelia fought the good fight.

What Cordy actually _wanted_ to do was take the biggest, sharpest, most gut wrenchingly painful item of weaponry from Angel's plentiful supply and do some much needed slicing and dicing in the region of Th'hesela. She made do with snatching the phone from its cradle and dialing Angel's number.

There was loud and colourful cursing when it signaled Angel was already on a call. "Note to self," Cordy thought, "Arrange call waiting on his cell phone." She tried his number once more in the vain hope that the legendary man of few words had hung up, but only ended up with the same result.

"Oh hell, Angel, get off the phone. This is important!" Cordelia spat at the mute plastic of the telephone hand set. "He never speaks more that three words to me when I call him, what in Gods name is taking him so long?"

Ariane shrugged not realizing Cordelia was talking to herself. She watched as Cordy stabbed at the key pad again wondering who was next on her hit list.

"Talk." Gunn barked. Small talk wasn't to his taste at the best of times and this was about as far from the best as he could get. He was, however, in the mood to rip into anyone just for the sake of blowing off some steam. Anyway, his cell had shown W&H. That pretty much meant who ever was calling was being paid to take his crap.

"Charming." Cordelia replied making a face at the phone. "From that greeting I'm guessing you didn't find anything?" She asked sounding calmer than she felt.

"Cordelia? Sorry, girl. My bad." He apologized. "We found something all right. Ourselves, looking stupid."

"It's nice to know there are still some constants in this crazy, mixed up excuse for a world." She sighed dramatically, unable to help herself.

"You done with the dissin', Miss thing?" He asked, pausing only long enough to let the rhetorical question hit home. "What you calling for?"

Cordelia could hear yelling in the background, who ever was unfortunate enough to be on the end of Angel's conversation would be lucky to live through the rest of the night. It was comforting to know that even though they had taken different paths, they were all still on the same track.

"Tell me you're calling to tell us Spike and English got them?" Gunn asked, hoping it was true.

"Can't help you there, they haven't checked in yet but I wouldn't bet on it." Cordelia informed him, shaking her head unnecessarily. "And on a personal note, not that I find your conversation anything other than dazzling, but I think Wolfram & Hart has turned into vision central."

"Another one? Already?" He couldn't hide his surprise. Two visions in two hours was some kind of record.

"Mmm-hmm. Looks like Angel shelled out for the deluxe package for once. Anyway, we were just.. sort of talking and the next thing I knew I was watching the same guys as before."

"Just give us the where and we're there."

"Would if I could, but I didn't recognize it." She stated flatly.

"What were …..?" Gunn's voice faded swiftly in mid-sentence.

"Cordy, what did you see?" Angel's voice replaced Gunn's and Cordelia could practically see the resolve in his cold tone.

"The Myoran's were in a house; they snatched a kid out of bed and left through a portal."

"Where?"

"Like I was just telling Gunn. I don't know." Cordelia searched her memory for anything she could identify but came up short. "It was quick, really quick, Angel." She said apologetically.

"You're not giving me much to go on." He groused, "How much time do we have?"

"How should I know?" She huffed back. "Somewhere between none and an hour, I think. Ask me what they were wearing or what the furniture looked like. Now that's something I could tell you." Not having enough information to guide him was bad enough. Angel asking for information she had never been able to give him in the first place? It wasn't as if the visions came with a convenient little clock in the corner giving her a count down.

Ariane waited until Cordelia's back was turned. She was fully occupied by the telephone conversation so didn't notice when Ari stole silently from the room. Sneaking out of offices without notice was becoming something of a habit.

It had been a while since Ariane's first visit to Wolfram and Hart. Meenotuk, ever the egotist, had decided he would appear more impressive if he arrived via portal. In his defense, he was probably right.

"Focus!" Ariane hissed under her breath. She concentrated on the memory of the day of her offering, running it backward in her head. By some miracle, no one took much notice of her as she traveled the corridors. She re-traced her journey to the portal room which lay at the heart of the building.

The room was exactly as she remembered it. It was perfect in every detail, including the ancient shaman who operated the portal itself. He offered her a warm but toothless smile in greeting.

Ari managed to be both thankful and disturbed by how easily she fooled the old man. Convincing him to open a portal to Th'hesela then giving him a gentle push to leave the room to allow her to go about her business without an audience. All the while admonishing herself for being so deceitful. "It is easier to succumb to temptation than to resist it." Martin's voice informed her as he had so often in life.

"This is wrong." Her own voice insisted. Her heart on the other hand screamed at her to be swift. She didn't dare guess how Angel would react to her defection and beside that, she couldn't afford to be distracted.

Yet her active, troubled, mind would not rest. Part of her wondered if Angel would care at all. He may have seemed glad of her return, but her arrival had heralded yet another troublesome phase. Angel could do without such a habit. He would no doubt be grateful to be free of her irksome ways. Sadly yet another part prayed he would burst through the door to stop her. Remove the burden from her and find a way to put right what she had made wrong.

"Is Angel your only concern?" Her heartless, demon, mind inquired. "Your hearts desire taking precedence over Jamie's life." Put so bluntly it was hard not to see the sense in what she was doing or at least to justify why she was doing it.

She took a deep breath, held it and rolled closer to the portal. She had taken what she needed from the shaman and used it well. The portal first flashed then shimmered into existence.

Unexpected anxiety stuck her as she gazed at the portal. The Myoran's repeated efforts to take her to Th'hesela were still as fresh in her memory as the bruises on her skin. An image of Jamie alone and afraid was all she needed to push her toward the undulating silver surface of the portal.

She felt the frission against her flesh, warm and yet chilling at the same time. Conflicting opinions sang aria's in her head. "Wrong-right-Angel-Martin …." She gritted her teeth and screwed her eyes tight shut and prayed this time it would be simple.

Unintentionally, Angel, Spike, Gunn and Wesley arrived in the parking garage at the same time. Gunn informed Wesley and Spike of the real reason behind their wild goose chase after swapping tales of non-existent Myoran's. As ever, Spike was the only one willing to comment.

"It's all smoke and bloody mirrors, init!" He shook his head in disgust at their stupidity. He was disgusted with himself for not seeing the ploy for what it had been. "Should have seen that one coming a mile off. We used it often enough back in the day, didn't we, Peaches." Spike jerked his head toward Angel in question and received a distracted grunt in reply.

Cordelia jumped when the elevator door in Angel's office slid into action. The oppressive silence in the room had been constant since she had hung up the phone.

"Boy, am I glad you're back." She sighed, giving each of them the warm smile to which they had become accustomed.

"Something else happen?" Angel asked. His eyes passed from Cordelia to search the room for Ari "Where is she?" The words came out in a resigned sigh.

Cordelia shrugged her reply. "She pulled another vanishing act while my back was turned. I've got my guys looking for her. I wanted to wait here for you."

"Where have they looked?" Spike quizzed.

"She hasn't left the building. I sent them to the obvious places first, Angel's suite, Lorne's office. All the usual places. She looked pretty shaken up after the vision and I didn't get a chance to ask why." Cordelia shrugged at Angel who was staring at a spot on the carpet, his mind working overtime.

"Maybe she's just gone to freshen up or something? It's not like she has anywhere else to go." Gunn shrugged taking a seat on the sofa.

While the others were nodding their agreement, Angel's eyes widened with sudden comprehension. He flew to the door hurling a startled Wesley and Spike out of his way.

"What the..?" Spike's brow furrowed as he cursed.

"Do you think he knows where Ari is?" Cordelia asked.

"I think he thinks he does." Spike replied.

"ARI … DON'T!" Angel yelled as he slammed through the door with enough force to loosen the hinges.

Ari turned at the sound of his entry, her eyes flew open and, as had happened every other time, the portal stretched then threw her back across the room. Her wheelchair skated sideways then toppled over, spilling her to the highly polished floor where she slid to a halt against the back wall.

She lay there for only seconds before Angel's strong hands grabbed her shoulders, his fingers biting into the soft flesh of her arms. He lifted her high to look squarely into her eyes, her feet dangling far from the floor.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He spat furiously, shaking her with each word. Hoping it would help rattle some sense into her willful head.

"Let me go." She tried to struggle free of his hands, "I have to … it's Jamie!" She stammered between enforced shakes, unable to bring herself to make eye contact with him.

"What?" He asked, his eyes narrowing, burning into her. His hands did not release their pressure on her arms but he at least managed to stop jolting her around.

"I have to help Jamie." She took control over herself and forced out the five words.

"What's he got to do with ..?" Angel's mind swiftly joined the dots. "They've taken Jamie. It's so obvious!" If his hands hadn't been full he would have smacked himself in the centre of his forehead. Spike had been right. Smoke and mirrors!

Ariane nodded and searched Angel's face for the compassion she knew he kept buried. He looked at her, her eyes huge, tear sparkling and filled with fear. He never could handle seeing her like that. Without stopping to think about propriety, he pulled Ariane toward him and enfolded her in his powerful arms.

"What were you planning to do?" He whispered with his mouth beside her ear, holding her so close he could almost feel her trembling inside his skin.

"Offer myself in exchange for his safe return." She whispered back, "Please, Angel, let me go."

"No." His look was as stony as his voice, brooking no argument.

"But."

"Ari, I know you need to do something, but this isn't going to help anyone." Angel never imagined he would miss the days when Ari obeyed him without question. "Now, you can play portal pinball all night if you have to but I'm not letting you go to Th'hesela."

"It would appear that I can't travel anywhere through that wretched device anyway." She threw a comically disgusted looked at the deceptively innocent gateway still shimmering temptingly beside them.

"I can't say I'm sorry about that." Angel replied hiding his smirk of approval well. "If you could, you'd already be in Th'hesela and I'd have to work out how to save you _and_ Jamie. I guess you're just going to have to stick with me."

"You got that right, at least for the time being. Angel, we need to talk." Lindsey stood casually in the doorway, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows and his top button undone. He couldn't help noticing, with some amusement, the closeness of the rooms' two occupants.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything important?" He smirked.

"She's not MINE!" Angel tried again; hoping this time his words would sink in.

"Shouting at me isn't going to change what I'm saying. Read it for yourself, Angel. The contract with Lord Meenotuk clearly hands over ownership of Ariane to you, Angel, not Wolfram & Hart."

"Then it's wrong. It has to be." He hissed.

"No, it's cruel and it's malicious and it's exactly as Meenotuk intended it to be. What ever you choose to call it, Angel, the girl's all yours. What does that feel like? To own someone, flesh and bone?"

"You can take the lawyer out of Wolfram and Hart …" Angel sighed shaking his head and leaving Lindsey's imagination to complete the phrase.

"I'm only asking!" He shrugged with a tired smirk. "There's power in possession that's all I'm saying. And this girl's got more power than she knows what to do with."

"You said before that she belonged to the company." Angel argued again. He was referring to the conversation they had had earlier in Lindsey's apartment.

"Before I had a chance to look at the contract." Lindsey agreed. "I should have guessed it wouldn't be that straight forward."

Angel only sighed again and paced Lindseys office faster. "Fine. The contract says she belongs to me." He spoke the words like hearing them from his own mouth would make them more comprehensible. "How do I get her out of it?"

Lindsey's eyebrows rose a little but he covered the look swiftly. "Not how can _I_ get out of it but how do I get _her_ out of it?" He mused.

"The short version is .. You don't." He stated. "She's tied to you for, er, life, unless you unload her onto someone else. There are get-out clauses, don't get me wrong."

"Like?" Angel asked.

"Like you could choose to … set her free?" Lindsey answered with some hesitation.

"Why didn't you just say so? Where do I sign?"

"Not so fast, there's a catch."

"Why am I not surprised?" Angel continued to pace but waved his hand in a "get on with it" gesture.

"You can destroy the contract." Lindsey replied with studied simplicity. "As it's not technically a W&H document it isn't covered by any of the standard protection charms."

"The catch?" Angel prompted, not bothering to disguise his frustration.

"Without a master," Lindsay paused, dreading what he had to say next, "she dies." His statement was painfully frank.

"What?" The word came out sounding strangled, as if it caught in Angel's throat.

"Without a…" Lindsey began to repeat.

"I heard you the first time. I mean, what do you mean?"

"I mean she ceases to live." Lindsey's reply was dripping with sarcasm. How much simpler could he make it? He instantly regretted his words the second he caught sight of Angel's expression. The vampire took two swift paces closing the distance between them to no more than inches..

"I don't find any of this funny. Now tell me what I need to know or get the hell out of my face." Angel fought a battle with his temper that Lindsey could plainly see by Angel's swiftly alternating demon and human face.

Lindsey nodded once nervously then continued, "Meenotuk apparently wanted to be sure you couldn't just release Ariane from your service." He took a few backward steps and looked unnecessarily at some scribbled notes.

"As I see it your options now are - keep her, give her to someone else or sell her. Ultimately, Angel, you can give her all the freedom you like but Ariane will never be free in the true sense of the word. She can't even travel alone, not interdimesionally that is. She can only travel between dimensions if she's accompanied by her Master."

"That's why she couldn't go through the portal." Angel muttered more to himself than Lindsey.

"Meenotuk didn't even leave her the option of killing herself." Lindsey stated matter-of-factly. "Not that I'm saying she would, obviously." He added swiftly when he realized how the statement sounded.

"They applied a variation on the staff perpetuity clause we used here. She can't die unless you kill her yourself, though there are a couple of obvious exceptions on that one. Beheading, cremation, stuff like that. Funny, that clause is probably the only thing that stopped me from killing her the last time." Lindsey swallowed in a dry throat.

"_Funny_ isn't the word I'd use." Angel continued to pace the room with his arms folded across his chest.

"Yeah, right, but you know what I mean." Lindsey agreed. "Under normal circumstances, she would have died that night, but…..?"

"You'd be surprised what you can live through." Angel half shrugged half-shuddered.

"Especially when you don't have a choice." Lindsey reminded him. "Say what ever you like about the guy, but Meenotuk was smart. He had all his bases covered on this one. He revoked every fundamental right a human being has, even the choice to live or die without permission. I found another nasty little addition. If you die without passing on this asset in a will or other legally binding document, it dies with you."

"It?" Angel moved toward Lindsey again and glared. He'd witnessed how Ari had reacted to being called an 'it' and he took offence on her behalf.

"She. Sorry, force of habit. Stipulations like that are by-and-large regarding property, Angel, not living beings."

"I guess where Ari was concerned Meenotuk didn't differentiate between the two." Angel cursed, "This damned contract's forcing me to treat her the same way." He thought. His eyes drifted to the floor and he shook his head. Lindsey heard a defeated huff then Angel's head rose and his shoulders squared. Back to business, the stance stated. "Is that it? No other fantastic piece of legalese to throw at me?"

"No, I think you've heard enough." Lindsey looked at Angel and couldn't help but feel pity. In spite of the prerequisite show of bravado the news of Ari's status had hit home and hit hard.

Lindsey, with his new found and hard fought respect for the vampire didn't enjoy seeing him torn like this. In spite of Lindsey's own guilty feelings regarding the girl, it was a twisted and ruthless contract. In another life Lindsey would have been proud of it. Now its Machiavellian design revolted him.

"Who drafted the contract?" Angel asked, breaking the silence. "No, don't tell me, I already know. Marc Savage."

"Yeah." Lindsey nodded.

"He died too quickly."

"Agreed."

Wesley poured over a parchment on Angel's desk, re-reading it for the hundredth time.

_Honourable Lord Angel_

_Thou hast under thy watch one to whom we doth hold some small importance, it behoves us to make apparent the presence of a certain urchin that thou dost hold valued to thine own heart, is at present time hostage under my protection._

_We would deem it unnecessary to apprise you that, if thou wouldst return my kinsmen and the key, then the urchin, known to thee as Jamie, shall come to no harm._

_If it should come to pass that these chattels are not delivered unto us by the monk's portal this night, the urchin shall indeed suffer the mortal penalty for thy impudence._

_Knowest then that if thou dost not avail thyself with haste, we shall indeed make the urchin suffer greatly._

_His most exalted Highness,_

_King Myor of Th'hesela_

"I don't get it." Angel complained, still angered by his conversation with Lindsay. He took up his regular position in front of his desk with his arms folded.

"What's to get, Angelus?" Spike scoffed. "We bag us our fill of baby steeling wankers, grab the kid, come home and get drunk."

"Their change in tactics _is_ rather alarming." Wesley agreed ignoring Spike completely. "Thus far, these Myoran's have favored the direct approach. Albeit, they have gone about it in a rather clumsy fashion. This, however, is a completely different matter. It was well planned and surprisingly well organized."

"So they win the most cunning plan award!" Spike jeered again. "Are we going to sit around dissecting their letter like a bunch of intellectual dandies or find them and kick their arses until they cough up the kid? All those in favor, say Aye."

"Great, Spike, but your plan could get the kid killed before we even lay a hand on them." Angel would have given anything to take Spike's easy option. It was clean and straightforward. Spike didn't mess around factoring in all the variables. He took a weapon and reacted, saying a big "sod you" to the consequences. Give me victory or give me death.

"I want to know how they could take the Nardino kid in the first place? I thought we had a team looking after their place?" Gunn asked the room.

"We do." Angel replied, pronouncing both words in clipped tones. He wanted to know what happened but his attention was fully focused on getting the kid back, not worrying about how they'd lost him in the first place.

"I'm waiting for them to get back to me." Wesley noted Angel's obvious question with all the ease their long friendship provided and picked up the phone.

"Do you think we can trust the Myoran's not to hurt him?" Jamie's terrified little face was still haunting Cordelia.

"He's safe, for the moment." Ariane spoke but her voice had a distant, hollow, quality. Angel stepped between her and the window and saw why. Her eyes were wide open, but there was nothing of Ari in them. Their usual spark was missing. Ari was somewhere far away.

"What else do you see?"

"An old man. I think he may be the King. Some guards and." Her eyes narrowed slightly, looking perplexed and then returned to depthless blue pools.

"Right, that's it. I've had enough. I'm hitching a ride to Myoran central? What do you say, Charlie?"

"The punk in me wants to join you, Spike, but even I think we should find out what we're walking into first." Gunn answered honestly.

Angel ignored the other goings on in the room. His attention was solely on Ariane. "Do you know where they are?"

"Th'hesela." She replied. Angel managed a "well, duh" look then sobered as Ari shuddered and collapsed forward into his arms.

"Ariane? Wes?" Angel turned to the man, hoping Wes knew more about what Ari was up to than he did.

The phone call all but over, Wesley hung up and trotted around the desk. "Some form of astral projection?" He stammered, as Angel gave Ari's shoulders a stiff but pointless shake.

Her eyes closed and her head wobbled on her neck. When she finally opened her eyes again they were clear but anxious.

"We'll get him back." Angel assured her. He wasn't sure how he was going to pull it off but he knew damned well he couldn't let the Myoran's get away with what they had done.

"I know you will." Ari gave him a thin smile and he reluctantly released her shoulders with a final reassuring squeeze.

"What did the ops team have to say?" Angel asked, turning his attention back to Wesley.

"They saw nothing unusual. Both the child's parents left a few hours ago. The boy was with his brother. They're bringing him here now."

"So now what?" Cordelia asked.

"It's standard K&R." Angel replied coldly, eliciting nods from Gunn and Wes.

"K&R?" Ariane asked, unsure of the term.

"Kidnap and ransom." He explained. "They want to trade. You and their warrior for Jamie."

"Only we're not going to play." With the talking all but over, Spike was looking forward to the next part, the weapons and the fighting and the killing.

"Wrong." Everyone turned toward Ariane again and she offered them half a smile. "I am what they want." She said, staring pointedly at Angel.

"Yeah?" Angel agreed warily. He did not like the steely look of resolve in Ariane's eyes. It reminded him too much of himself.

"Then it's simple. Hand me over."

"Not bloody likely." Spike spat back.

"I thought we'd covered this?" Though Angel sounded calm, he was far from it.

"Jamie's life is what is important, not mine. Now is not the time to play games. If I go to Th'hesela, the Myoran's will release Jamie. I see no reason for any of you to get involved."

"We are involved, whether you like it or not and we've kinda got a zero tolerance policy with terrorists." Gunn offered in the way of an explanation. "No negotiations."

"I wasn't planning to negotiate. The note says they want me in return for freeing Jamie. Simple." Ariane looked at them calmly. For all her expression gave away she could have been discussing the weather. "I'm not asking for permission either." She favored Angel with another cold stare. "I _am_ going."

"At the risk of repeating myself, NOT BLOODY LIKELY!" Spike yelled this time. "Like the poof said, we'll get the little un back to his folks, Sunbeam. What's the point in you putting yourself in danger? None, right? Good, so we're all straight on you staying here where it's safe?"

"NO." Ari shook her head adamantly. "I have to go."

"Why?" Spike asked, still stunned by Ari's offhand discussion of her life threatening decision.

"Jamie's safety is my responsibility. His life is in danger as a direct result of my negligence. I should have been, should be, more careful. He …….."

Cordy cut her off mid sentence, "Not this again! Ari, no offence but you can't take responsibility for every bad thing that happens to people you know. If you break this right down, it's Angel's fault the Myoran's have Jamie, not yours."

"Gee, thanks, Cordelia." Angel shot, offering Cordy a "don't try to help me" look.

"You know what I mean." She shrugged.

"If I hadn't taken you from them, Jamie would be home right now." Angel admitted reluctantly.

"But …" Ari tried to argue.

"So handing you over would make me guilty twice. Is that what you want?"

"No, but .." Ariane could find no words to dispute Angel. She wanted to, god knew, but she couldn't see a way to make him understand. "Angel, what else will they accept to secure Jamie's return?"

"We don't ask, luv. We take." Spike, with his wonderfully rare talent, summed up the situation perfectly. "We use their tactics against them." He continued. "Misdirection." He cooed with devilish glee.

"It's risky." Angel shook his head sharply. He could practically read Spike's mind. Make the Myorans believe they were going to get what they wanted, dangle Ari like a carrot in front of them then snatch the kid while their attention is on the girl.

"Risky? Crossing the street is risky, Angel, this is more like us taking a lunch time stroll, but I'm not about to let that stop me." Spike eyed Angel's shaking head dubiously and rolled his eyes. "Typical, gay boy attitude." He thought to himself.

"Didn't you just get over telling us we couldn't hand Ari over?"

"Yeah, but I forgot one very important fact."

"Just one? Is that a record?"

"Sunbeam's packing a whole lot of fire power behind those baby blues, Peaches. Like I told you before, she's not just a pretty face. Ari, you could turn that Uzi in your head on the Myo-rons. It's your chance to get some payback, what do you think?"

"Me? You mean what I? What if .. I'm not... I don't think ..." Ari stammered and shook her head more with fear than in negation. She was still under the misconception that Angel could hand her over with little or no fuss and end the whole situation amicably.

"A slow release drug could give the same reaction we had here." Wesley mused, caught up in Spike's deviously ingenious concept. "But if our people are in close proximity we couldn't shield them all from the effects. We don't have time."

"It's at least an option." Cordelia shrugged half-heartedly. She wouldn't wish this horrible situation on anyone. They were going to have to use every advantage they could.

"How many do you think you take out with a sweep like that, Ari?" Gunn asked with interest. She looked back at him fearfully.

"We need to talk to the Myoran again." Wesley interjected. "He's important enough to be mentioned in the ransom note. That mean's he's valuable to them. Perhaps if we find out what it is, it could give us an advantage."

"We don't have much time to go pissing it away with more pointless chatter, Watcher." Spike shot back sharply. "What makes you think you're going to get any more out of him than you did before?"

"Give me fifteen minutes. If I can't find out anything more, we go with what ever plan you come up with." He offered.

"Can I help?" Ariane enquired gently. Her voice was barely audible.

"Breaking rules, Sparky?" Spike couldn't hide his surprise. Maybe there was hope for his plan after all?

"I understand that's what they're made for." She replied softly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Angel asked. Ari looked like a girl on the wrong side of exhausted.

"I want Jamie home with his family. If there is something I can do to help the cause I would like to at least try." She replied with uncompromising honesty. She looked like she had reached a reluctant decision.

"Take her with you, Wes." He nodded sympathetically. He'd had to put his own values aside more than once and he knew how it felt to turn your back on what you know is right in order to do what must be done. He only hoped she was strong enough to last it out.

Wesley had got a little more out of Granlar with a banal line of questioning but Ari had surprised both of the men.

She had taken a short time to probe Granlar's mind as Wesley questioned him, gaining little headway but glimpsing some interesting character traits during her exploration.

Ari recalled from her first meeting with Granlar that he had serious reservations about his King's approach to the end of hostilities in Th'hesela. When she added to that his strong affection for his family she considered a new tactic, one which proved most effective.

"Granlar, your King has kidnapped my friend." She leveled her eyes on him and held his gaze without wavering. "Before you attempt to defend this act you should know the friend I speak of has fewer years than your daughter, Nalia."

Granlar did not break the stare, instead his eyes drilled into Ariane with furious alarm. The mention of a family member had been a nice touch, Wesley noted.

"What do you know of my issue?" Granlar growled, still without breaking their locked eyes.

"Enough." Ari replied mildly.

"What do you intend to do with the knowledge?" He rumbled. His upper lip was curling in a sneer Wes found deeply disturbing.

"Their fate lies in your hands." She answered simply. Wesley noticed with awe that there was no menace in Ariane's voice. She could have easily turned the mental thumb screws by insinuating Granlar's family were in as much danger as Jamie Nardino. He was intrigued to see exactly where she was taking this.

"I will not yield to your intimidation." Granlar returned threateningly. Wesley noted with some admiration that Ariane didn't flinch.

"Intimidation is a ploy used by the weak and desperate, Granlar. I am neither." Ari countered leaning toward him. "However, your King by your own admission, is both. You are as opposed to his methods and ultimate objective as these people." Ari nodded toward Wesley who remained motionless. "What I am proposing would be beneficial to all parties."

"You are not with these people?" Granlar asked. for the first time his eyes left Ariane to flit between she and Wesley.

"My position is unimportant. They are not your enemy, Granlar. A prophecy in which you hold no faith has caused your paths to cross. Their only interest now is the return of the child."

"And what of you?" Granlar questioned.

"I am insignificant." She retorted losing patience for the first time. "Time is short, Sire. Will you help us? Will you help me?" Ariane's eyes were huge. Their honesty affected both the occupants of the room equally.

"You ask too much of me. I am a warrior, I cannot be expected to alter the commands handed down by my King." Granlar shook his head and stared back at Ariane.

"We ask you only to assist us to return the child to his parents. Let the rest be what it will." Ariane spoke gently, her small hand snaked across the table to touch the rough calused claw of the Myoran. "Help me?"

"If I can." Granlar agreed reluctantly.

The moon seemed to speed across the sky. Its passage reminding all of them of how little time they had left. Thankfully, the gang wasted none of it. With the information Wesley and Ariane had acquired from Granlar they were in a better position to strategize.

Cordelia left to make arrangements for Rob to be what she discretely titled "debriefed and contained" upon his arrival at W&H.

Spike, Angel, Gunn and Wesley thrashed out a rough plan of action. Ariane heard her name mentioned several times during the four way brainstorming but was only nominally involved in the conversation. She made her excuses and exited for Angel's suite in order to make some of her own preparations.

She managed to shower, change her clothes and cram in ten minutes of meditation before Angel appeared. He had also changed clothes and looked ready to face anything the Myoran's could throw at him.

"Time to go." He stated bluntly. He had packed his emotions carefully out of reach, a maneuver that Ariane did not fail to notice and envy.

She nodded quickly and made for the elevator without comment. She wanted Angel to know she was as eager as he to be on their way.

"You might want to leave your chair here." He muttered, standing in front of her.

"I'll leave it at the portal. That way I can pick it up when I get back." She replied glancing upward and taking a swift detour around him. "How are we getting to the monastery?"

"I'm driving." He stated falling into step beside her. "Wes is traveling with Granlar. Wes said you worked him pretty hard."

"We didn't have time to squander it treading lightly. Whatever the reason, Granlar decided to tell us what we needed to know. Before you ask, Angel, I took no pleasure from my actions. What I did was wrong, but that weight rests on my conscience. I will suffer the judgment for my sins when the time comes. All I'm interested in now is saving Jamie"

"No-one can condemn you for that."

"Not on this side of existence." She responded. She didn't wait for him react with some ham fisted platitude to appease her tainted self-image. "I assume Spike and Gunn aren't sitting this one out?"

Angel's eyes flashed and he smirked down at her shaking his head. "It seems after a word from your Myoran friend a couple of the monks have agreed to show us a back way into Th'hesela. Gunn and Spike are meeting us in there, and they're bringing friends."

Ari nodded her understanding but could not disguise her troubled frown.

"This isn't the first time we've done this, Ariane. I'm not leaving Th'hesela without Jamie."

"Then we have nothing to worry about." She replied.

Angel stood facing the portal with Ari in his arms, waiting.

"Ready?" He asked as his gaze dipped to her eyes for a fraction of a second. She nodded back, her throat too dry to speak.

Without hesitation, Angel strode forward gritting his teeth for the actual crossing. He didn't trust things he didn't understand, and he didn't understand portals. There was slight pressure on his skin and Ari tightened her grip around his neck then his ears popped once, this time there were no other discernible effects.

The first thing Angel noticed was the weak daylight. There was an instant when all thought froze and he waited to ignite. The moment passed without incident and he tried to shrug it off. There was something wrong with a creature of the night parading around in daylight and it didn't sit well with him no matter how often it happened. Years of ingrained ritual were hard to write off just because he had walked through a shiny curtain. Still, he knew if that was not a problem there were plenty to take its place.

He didn't have long to wait to see what those problems were. Behind them stood a huge, sheer cliff wall that looked like it had been sliced though by the sword of a god. In front of them were twenty Myoran's standing in a wide arc, every one with his sword raised ready to strike at the first hint of movement.

Angel dropped Ari to the rocky ground, steadied himself then took up a defensive stance in front of her. She made a show of cowering close to Angel's legs.

"If you ever want to see your friends again, I'd back off." Angel growled searching the faces for one who looked like he was more than a year out of warrior school.

"Hava!" Rathlyn roared from the back of the pack. Each of the warriors took a pace off and lowered their swords. Not one sheathed, Angel noted. He recognized the Myoran from the retreat and remembered his mismanagement of the situation. If they were lucky, the fool would do the same again.

"Where is Granlar?" The leader asked shouldering his way through the men, who parted to allow him passage. He was puffed up and swaggering, like all he had to do was ask for the warrior and Angel should make it his life's work to deliver him.

"Safe." Angel replied not altering his position.

"Not good enough." The warrior barked.

"Shame, that's all you're getting." He fixed a mirthless smirk on his face and watched the Myoran's mind work.

There was movement from Angel's right. He watched but did not move giving who ever was approaching the impression they had the drop on him.

"Withdraw, Rathlyn. The right is mine" Thessimus's voice oozed self-confidence. Its nasal quality set Angel's teeth on edge and made his spine prickle. He noticed the look of utter abhorrence on Rathlyn's face replacing the previous conceit. He wondered what the deal was between the two Myoran's but it was inconsequential and he quashed the thought quickly. He did not have time for distractions.

"You are the demon known as Angel." Thessimus cooed. "Your reputation precedes you."

"You'd be surprised how often I hear that." Angel replied, forcing a smile. He allowed the look to dissolve and his stony anger to replace it, "Where's the boy?"

"Safe." Thessimus responded. There was no need to add, "For now," that was clearly written on the Myoran's pasty grey face. When Angel didn't counter, Thessimus continued perturbed. "You will relinquish the key?"

"Her?" Angel glanced over his shoulder and sneered down at Ariane who shrank away from him. "She's more trouble than she's worth." He commented. His reply was carefully worded so as not to actually agree to a transfer. Where Ari's ownership was concerned there were fine lines he could not, would not, cross.

"Rathlyn." Thessimus motioned to the huge hulking figure who strode forward. "Take it." He flapped a limp hand in Ariane's direction.

"Not so fast." Angel took a half-step backward making contact with Ari. "You don't get anything until I get the boy."

"And what of our kinsmen?" Rathlyn asked.

"They're waiting on the other side of that portal." Angel jerked his head back in the direction of the gateway they had used. "When the kid reaches my people, they send your guy through."

"How can we be sure you will uphold your side of this agreement?"

"I guess you'll just have to trust me."

"And if I don't?"

"Then this better not be your whole army." Spike, appeared at the rear of the assembled group, flanked on both sides by a black clad covert ops squad. Spike swung his sword with theatrical style then stood ready to fight anyone brave or stupid enough to take him on.

As the warriors surrounding Angel and Ariane turned to face Spike and his team, Angel grabbed Ari by the arm and swung her into his arms like a father throwing his child. He ducked two swung blades and made for a small ledge on the side of the cliff. He deposited Ariane without a word. Ari had known from the start how difficult her circumstances would make things. Being practically helpless was just another challenge to add to the list. How could they be expected to keep her safe and fight for Jamie?

Angel fought his way back into the throng of bodies who seemed hell bent on taking Spike's head. He snatched a sword from a lunging warrior, pulling the blade from his hand and turning it so swiftly the young man was impaled on his own weapon. As Angel hauled the long blade from the collapsed body, he drove the pommel, full force, into the unshielded face of another oncoming assailant. The man doubled over and Angel pushed him in to the path of two running Myoran's. It was chaos and in spite of himself, he loved it.

Spike was likewise holding his own, though he was more vocal about it than Angel.

"Baby stealing cowards." He yelled as he simultaneously back kicked, plunged and head-butted three Myoran's. "And you fight like girls too." He added as all three men fell around him. "Nice of you to join me, Peaches."

"Are you ever going to quit with the Peaches thing?" Angel asked conversationally. Side-stepping a thrust dagger and snapping the wrist of the man who held it.

"Is it getting to you?" Spike queried stepping over one of the fallen to take on the next in line.

"If I admit that you're going to do it even more, aren't you?" Angel took a two handed grip on his sword and swung it full force at the raised blade of another Myoran who looked like he was ready to run anywhere to get away from the two rampaging strangers. He swiftly dropped the reverberating weapon as if it was red hot.

Spike took the flat of his blade and roughly slapped the unsuspecting rear end of the Myoran in front of Angel. The boy gave a yip of fright then made a bolt for freedom. "I couldn't give much of a toss one way or the other." He lied.

"Great!" Angel rolled his eyes and narrowly dodged a swung blade from his right.

"I s'pose I could call you something else." Spike smirked. "Oy, watch me duds." He yelled to one warrior whose sword had sliced clean through the tail of his leather duster.

"Like what?" Angel couldn't hide the sound of mistrust.

"What do you think of, knob-jockey?" Spike asked proudly as he dropped another man.

"I think I prefer, Peaches."

"What ever you say, Butt Pirate." They each looked around for another man to fight but found none. There were bodies scattered on the rocky terrain, some of them still groaning, but none capable of causing trouble.

"Where's Ari?" Spike asked, eyes darting every which way. Angel turned to look for the girl where he had left her and saw only emptiness.

They exchanged a look of resigned acknowledgement. They had known Ari's capture was going to be practically impossible to avoid but Angel had hoped it would have proved more difficult. He could only hope that Granlar, Gunn and Wesley were having more luck finding Jamie. He wanted everyone out of this place as soon as possible.

Gunn and Wesley, with Granlar between them, crept around a dark corner of King Myor's crumbling castle. Granlar had assured them there were only two places Myor would hold Jamie. The dungeons or in the small audience chamber adjacent to the Main hall. Armed only with Ariane's description of the room where she had last seen Jamie, they wanted to check the meeting room first. The problem with that was the castle wasn't exactly empty. Granlar was confident that most of the guards would be elsewhere but there was still the staff to consider. Theirs was, after all, a covert mission. At least until Jamie was home safe.

Rathlyn strode audaciously through the castle corridors with what passed for a grin on his scarred face. He had the Key slung across his shoulders like the carcass of a slain buck. It was, after all, his trophy. The only thing marring his enjoyment of the moment was Thessimus. The self-righteous half-breed was strutting ahead of him as they made for the King's chambers. The sure knowledge that Thessimus was going to take full credit for their accomplishment was enough to make Rathlyn want to draw his dagger and slip it into Thessimus's black heart. He resisted the urge by comforting himself with thoughts of the enjoyment he would take from seeing Thessimus brought low. That would come later.

Thessimus halted at the door to the King's rooms and eyed Rathlyn. He wanted to dismiss the warrior and enjoy the full praise of the King alone but he did not want to touch the Key itself. Something about the thing made him wary. The unreasonableness of this notion was another thing that he would have to look into. Its only use was as a device to open the portal. What could there possibly be for him to be cautious about?

Mentally shrugging off the lingering doubt, Thessimus knocked on the large wooden door and waited. A second later, the cringing pedagogue, Snort, opened the door.

"I desire to have audience with the King." He announced confidently.

"Then enter and make your business known." Snort invited bowing and opening the door wide. When he lifted his head, he took in the sight of Rathlyn and his burden and his eyes widened. The key looked back at him with her blue upon blue eyes.

Rathlyn at last slipped her from his shoulders. He held her out at arms length, gripping her by her shoulders and looked at the King over her head. She dangled there, her toes a full three feet from the floor.

"Your Key, majesty." Thessimus bowed his head deeply, his voice thick with pride.

The withered King gazed at her from his throne, awe-struck. At last, the pieces of his final plan were falling into place. Still he could not believe what he was seeing.

"Ahh." He sighed. His old eyes searched her for some recognition. When none came and both his subjects waited for his praise, he sobered.

"You have done well. Both of you." He smiled warmly. "We are delighted with your progress. What of Granlar, is he also with you?"

"Not yet, Sire. We anticipate his joining us presently." Thessimus lied. If Granlar was in fact in Th'hesela, he was sure the accomplished warrior would find a way to flee his captors and return to his home. If not, the Entart was already dead and the King would have to make do with only the key. Either way he considered his plan a success.

"Good, good." The King nodded. "I assume you have other business to attend to?"

"Certainly, Sovereign. What would you have us do with your Key?" Rathlyn enquired. He grinned when Thessimus frowned. The other had apparently been seeking more than a token word of gratitude from their King.

"She will remain here. There is much we have to discuss."

"But, Sire?" Thessimus blustered. "Are you certain there is no danger?"

"Do you pose a threat to me, my lady?" The King asked Ariane with a sly smile.

"Not that I am aware of, my lord." She replied softly. "As I see it, it is I who am at your mercy."

"Well spoken." Myor nodded then turned toward Thessimus. "You have your answer, Thessimus. Be about your business and bring me word at once when Granlar returns."

"As you wish, Majesty." Thessimus muttered.

Snort and Thessimus left the room without further comment. Rathlyn, with surprising gentleness, placed Ariane on the floor where he stood and, as was custom, backed from the room to join the others outside the chamber.

"What name do they give you in your land?" King Myor asked Ariane after the door had closed behind Rathlyn.

"I am known as Ariane, my lord." She replied, respectfully. She pulled her legs toward her and sat up as straight as she could. Given her position on the floor, it was impossible to look confident but she refused to look pathetic.

There was recognition in his eyes and he nodded imperceptibly."Ariane." He said the name as though tasting it. "A good enough name. Do you know why you have been brought to me, Ariane?"

"No, Sire." She admitted. Though she had some idea of what this man wanted her to do, it would serve a greater purpose to have him explain it. Wasting time gave Angel and the others a chance to rescue Jamie.

The King took his time. He made sure Ariane knew all his reasons for resorting to his recent methods but to Ari there were few reasons, however noble, to explain kidnapping Jamie. If not for that single fact, Ariane would have understood King Myor's plan. She even found herself sympathizing with the plight of the people King Myor spoke of with such reverence.

"Will you help us?" The King asked sincerely when he was done.

"Am I in any position to refuse?" Ari returned a little confused but equally curious.

"Your willingness to assist us would be preferable."

"Then I offer you my apologies, your majesty. You may prefer to have a willing sacrifice but I find myself unable to comply. I am not ready to martyr myself to your cause."

"Perhaps if you understood this cause is not only my own but yours too." The King replied with a somewhat crafty gleam in his eye. "Join me little one." He rose from his throne and walked toward Ari. When she didn't move, he offered her his hand in assistance.

"Come." He tried again.

Ariane sighed and averted her eyes from the old man. A look he confused for dismissal.

"Don't be tiresome. There is no need for this to be difficult."

"If you wish for me to walk with you, Sire, then God himself will have to take a hand. As I understand it, God has greater obligations than to trouble himself over the likes of me."

"Explain yourself." King Myor hissed his face displaying his considerable anger. Thus far, the Key had been co-operative, even showing some mild interest. Why choose such a mundane issue as this to make her stand?

"I can not walk, Sire." Ari hated the sound of her own voice as she said the words. Even now, it sounded like an apology.

"Why not?" He asked, still with the same level of resentment.

"I was … hurt." At this point further explanations appeared pointless.

"Rathlyn shall pay for this with his life." The King cursed, clenching his bony hands into tight fists.

"No, your Highness. Your men are not responsible." Explanation may have been pointless perhaps, but necessary if Ariane were to spare Myor's men from undeserved punishment. There was an instant when she considered saying nothing and allowing the King to think and do whatever he pleased but she had enough of a conscience to dismiss the notion quickly.

"Then who?"

"Why should that be important?" Ariane was losing patience. The King's counterfeit compassion was as infuriating as it was hollow. He wanted to know who had hurt her because he enjoyed inflicting pain, regardless of the victims' guilt or innocence.

"Your impertinence is unbecoming." He growled, his own patience wearing thin.

"I save my respect for those who have earned it." She shot back, anxiety making her reckless.

"You know nothing of me yet you judge me unworthy of your deference? I am King, which should be enough to prove my worth. I have had lesser insolence rewarded by death."

"You are King by birth, not by deed and were I not necessary for your plan, sire, I'm sure you would indeed have me killed. Either way my sentence remains the same, does it not? You have mapped out your strategy clearly. I am not to survive this day whether I respect you or not. Allow me at least the right to speak my mind before you take my life. As for knowing nothing of you, Sire, you are mistaken. I have seen what you have done to the people you have sworn to serve. You have dragged them into a war for no other reason than your own selfish pride."

"That is a lie." His eyes narrowed to slits as he vehemently denied her claim.

"Is it, Lord? Then what did you hope to gain from the war with Quintarh?" She enquired without expecting him to reply, "No, Sire, this was your crusade, not your country's. It began as a squabble between two brothers, a squabble that should have been ended long ago."

He couldn't understand how she managed to arouse his ire so effortlessly. "You speak of things you do not understand, child." He attempted to dismiss her, waving his hand and averting his eyes.

"You deny things that are obvious, Myor." She replied with all the distaste she could convey. His hand flew with frightening speed and her face flamed, scarlet and stinging where he had struck her.

"If you wish to keep thy impudent tongue, wench, I suggest to do not allow it to vex me further." Myor warned.

"You will do with me as you see fit, regardless of my actions." She assured him, her eyes clear despite the painful blow she had received.

"Aye, that I will, child." He nodded, "Though I hoped you would understand the purpose of your sacrifice before you made it."

"You set yourself a mighty task, Sire. One I fear you are doomed to fail."

"Hear my reasons, then judge me and my squabble, as you called it." The King sounded desperate.

"Tell your tale, Highness, if you are so eager to do so."

"Would you view it without prejudice, for I will waste no more time listening to your petty chastisement. You have put me in a foul temper."

"How can I answer you before I know what it is?"

"Then come." The King lifted her from the ground expecting the burden to be heavier but grateful for the favor. Just as the girls' existence was to end, his life was also drawing to a close. He discovered, somewhat sadly, that he was weary for the end.

He carried her to a doorway and pushed his way through. On the other side was the King's bedchamber. He strode to the bed feeling suddenly strong and vital. He deposited Ariane at its end then took a place beside her. He said nothing, he only pointed dramatically to a portrait on the far wall.

Ariane stared for what felt like an age. The likeness was astonishing but for the figures flame red hair.

"Who is she?" Ari asked, the words escaping like a sigh. She had the uncanny urge to touch the portrait.

"Her name was, Christiana, and she was my wife." Myor replied. Ariane turned toward him and saw the mixture of pride and grief on his old face. There was no trace of deception.

"But she? I? We?"

"You have her eyes, my lady." He smiled down at Ari with an alarming gentleness then put a hand to the cheek he had struck. "And her quick tongue too it seems. This, however," He said, running a sheaf of her dark hair gently between his fingers, "This, could come only from your father."

"And he would be?" She asked haltingly.

"That question is what has fueled this "sqabble" for centuries."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

"Where is the child?" Granlar growled, spitting in the face of his compatriot.

"Supreme Thessimus ordered him to be taken to the God's basin, lest the key prove unwilling to perform its duty." The Myoran stammered. Granlar released his choke hold and threw the soldier to the floor in disgust.

"_Supreme_ Thessimus!" Granlar cursed. "The boy will be heavily guarded. Stealth is of no benefit to us. We require a show of force."

"What's God's basin?" Gunn asked.

"A crater in the hills, portended in the myth to be the site of the ritual." Granlar replied inattentively. His mind was on other things.

"Take us there. We can sort out a plan on the way." Gunn was primed for action; he had had enough of talk.

"The risks will be great." Granlar shook his head in astonishment. How could they be so unprepared?

"Let us worry about that." Wesley agreed.

Since word of the key's arrival had spread throughout the villages, people had been making their way to God's basin. Each one eager to watch as Renewey Venex made their broken world whole once more.

They flocked to the ritual site and jostled for the best position under the steadily darkening sky. The crater had a church-like hush in spite of the crowds. Each member of the strange congregation spoke in whispers and waited impatiently for their first glimpse of the savior. The combined expectation created its own electric excitement, charging the air with a trembling current.

When the King finally arrived silence descended and the basin was a sea of anticipation. Each upturned face his gaze fell upon was a mixture of fear and desire. King Myor held out a trembling hand to still them and waited until he was sure he had the full attention of every soul.

"Hile, my people." He called, his voice carrying easily over the crowd. "Our time has come."

The cheer that rolled back to him was like a reviving tonic and he drank deeply from it, slowly raising his hand again, this time for quiet.

"The Key is here, and has given itself freely to our cause." King Myor stated grandly. The lies falling easily from his mouth.

With these words a great winch was set in motion. On its end, Ariane was tied; face down, to a stout wooden frame. With each turn of the winch she was raised out and up over the awe-struck crowd below. The white gown she wore flapped and writhed in the draught caused by the winches movement. She could feel the tight ropes at her wrists biting into her flesh. Her back screamed its agony as gravity pulled her hips low, arching her spine beyond its endurance. The rod's, placed there to stabilize her depleted vertebrae, shifted under the pressure and she could not hold back the scream of agony which escaped her.

The sound of her anguish was drowned out by the waves of cheering and applause as beneath her the gathered Myoran's paid audible tribute to their benevolent Monarch.

Ariane's mind was in a turmoil of physical and psychological torment. She could feel the mixed apprehension and exultation rising from the gathering below her like vapor. Then there were other emotions, darker, vengeance and retribution, fear and anger. In her misery she couldn't separate her own feelings from those of the Myoran's. She became overwhelmed, swamped by the force of emotions gathering within and around her until, quietly, gently, the voice of Martin returned to her.

"These thoughts can only harm you if you give them sanction." His voice echoed. "Let them wash over you like an incoming tide. Be not the rock that bars the tides path, but the shore which caresses it's every wave."

Deep in her agony, Ariane began the ritual which calmed her soul. Breathing as deeply as her position allowed she focused her will on finding Jamie.

In the throng of strange, Myoran, thoughts she quickly located Jamie's very human patterns. She could see him, surrounded by the hulking shapes of Myoran warriors, in a cave close to where the King stood watching over his assembled people. Physically, Jamie was asleep. His dark eyes, though open, were blank and his features were completely serene, as only those of a child can be. She entered his dream gently, nudging aside his happy thoughts until she could speak to him without interruption.

"Hi." He squeaked in delight.

"Hello." She smiled back. "Angel is coming for you."

"I know, you told me he would." Jamie nodded sweetly. "Will you be with him? I want to go home now."

"Angel will take you home." She said, with some gravity. "Remember Jamie, only Angel can take you home."

"What about you?" He asked.

"I have something to do here." She replied gently, smiling and taking his hand in hers. "Don't forget Jamie, only Angel can take you home."

"I want you to come, Annie. I want you to take me home." Two great tears dropped from his eyes and she fought to remain calm.

"I'll be with you Jamie, part of me will stay with you until I can come home. I promise." She bent and kissed him gently.

"Stay with Angel, he will keep you safe." She said as she once again allowed his dreams to take over.

In her search for Jamie she had also come across several other humans she recognized and she took the little time she had to convey Jamie's situation to them.

Angel and Spike bounded across the moss slippery rocks at the base of the castle with suicidal disregard. They had abandoned following the injured warriors when they discovered they were returning to the castle and decided to reconnoiter the perimeter instead.

It wasn't long before Angel and Spike noticed a steady stream of druids, warriors and what they could only assume were townspeople winding their way up a steep hill.

The daylight, what there had been of it, was fading fast. The sky, at first grey, was slowly turning pale rose, lavender and peach along its western horizon. If Angel or Spike had paid it any heed they would have noticed its simple beauty. Their attention, however, was reserved strictly for the thin line of Myoran's who continued to trudge doggedly up the hill.

With the onset of true darkness, several of the Myoran's lit torches. Angel and Spike watched closely as their passage could be clearly seen in the deepening gloom. The Myoran's wound and twisted their path up the hill then abruptly disappeared.

As Angel and Spike stealthily approached, they noticed the Myoran's did not disappear as they had first thought but they breasted a hill which hid a steep decline at its opposite side.

The steady stream of pedestrian traffic began to dwindle. What ever was happening on the other side of that hill must have been, if not started then well on it's way to starting. Angel had time to wonder about Ari. Was she involved in whatever business was going on over the crest of the hill? Was she okay? He didn't want her to suffer any more. The girl had turned that into an art form. He wanted this nonsense, whatever it was King Myor had planned, to be the last. He wanted Ari to be home, safe and happy. These thoughts flitted across his mind in the briefest of seconds as he formulated a plan.

He and Spike would hide out until the last of the Myoran's had breasted the hill, then they would shoot through and look for cover on the other side.

As he was about to convey his ideas to Spike he noticed he was alone.

"Spike!" He hissed through his teeth. He looked behind him and, casual as you please, Spike was walking up to two Myoran warriors.

"Evening." Spike nodded pleasantly as the Myoran's looked at each other in mute puzzlement. "Lovely night for a ... whatever this is." He jerked his head behind him in the direction of the hill.

"Well, can't stay here and chitchat all night." He shrugged then punched the smallest of the two full in the face. Just as the other was about to draw his weapon, Angel appeared and, using Spike for leverage, sprung full pelt on the Myoran.

"What took you?" Spike called to him as he wrestled on the rocky ground.

"Thanks for the heads up." Angel yelled back. Spike began removing the Myoran's clothing, shucking out of his leather duster. In his opinion, Angel was making a meal out of fighting his guy.

"What are you doing, dancing with him?" He called over his shoulder.

Angel had the man by the throat and was repeatedly smacking his face in an effort to knock him out. It took him a second to realize that the guy was already out for the count. He swiftly released his neck and the Myoran crumpled to the ground at his feet. He turned to give Spike a mouthful of abuse when he noticed the now half naked warrior.

"What exactly are you doing?" He asked, his eyes shifting everywhere. They may have been in a strange dimension but the thought that someone might notice them made him embarrassed.

"I'm putting on his clothes, nit." He sniped back. "What did you think I was doing?" He returned a shifty glance then scowled at the guy on the ground in front of him.

"He's not my type." He muttered. "Get his kit off then." Spike gestured to the fallen man in front of Angel.

"Why?" Angel asked simply his gaze shifting in embarrassment.

"So they won't recognize us!" Spike replied, the 'duh' was apparently silent.

"I don't think my guys stuff'll fit." Angel looked dubiously at the heap on the ground.

"Then breathe in and lay off the burgers in future. Harmony swears by Atkins, maybe you should give it a try." Spike sniggered then sobered. "Get a move on. Can't you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Angel asked distracted by his chore.

"I dunno! Feels a bit like there's going to be a storm or something." He shrugged his uncertainty. "Can't you feel it?" He asked again.

Angel halted and gave himself space to feel. Time. Spike was right, there was a charged atmosphere, a skin-prickling sensation of building anticipation. When he looked, his skin had broken out in goose flesh.

"You do feel it." Spike nodded with some satisfaction. Angel hurriedly put on the Myoran's clothing and helmet then both he and Spike marched toward the hill. In their hurry, they didn't notice that the Myoran's they had stripped were not what they appeared to be.

The Quintarhan's threaded their way thought the throng of stinking Myoran flesh around them. They had been given orders to position themselves around the perimeter of the basin, a few clustered strategically within, and to begin their assault when the ritual began. King Quintarh had wisely recognized the soft headed Myoran's would be at their weakest and most unsuspecting during this time.

The Quintarhan leader grinned, the sly look lost in a sea of incongruously joyful Myoran's. They were expecting an end to the war this day. Then an end they would have.

He gazed upward, wary of the wench hanging over his head. Her short journey had reached its destination and she hung twenty feet above the heads of the people below, still swaying gently to and fro. The movement was hypnotic and he had to drag his eyes from it. He had time to curse her as a witch before his attention was drawn back to the odious King standing like a preacher over his flock.

"We have waited long and long for this time to come," King Myor sang out "and by the gods we shall wait no longer."

This was the Quintarhan's cue, no sooner had the words escaped the Kings mouth and the brown robed Druids stepped forward to begin their ritual than the Quintarhan battle cry was issued.

Screams and wailing replaced the cheering as mothers with children in their arms ran in haphazard directions trying to flee the flashing swords of the Quintarhan's. The stench of chaos and fear and blood and death was everywhere as above them, Ariane felt a change in the vibrations around and within her.

Heedless to the carnage below them, or undisturbed by it, the druids chanted in a language Ariane couldn't hear to understand. She could feel static electricity building around her giving her a tingling sensation on her skin and making her hair crackle with its dry charge. She struggled in her shackles recognizing it was hopeless but the need to fight too strong to ignore.

A thought struck her like lightening. Her fight was never to have been fought on a physical level. She was a being of emotions and those were her strength. It would be the thing which set her apart that would set her free. Ariane became still, forcing out all of the doubts and fears she was harboring for her friends and for those caught in the struggle below her. She closed her eyes and focused on the strong beat of her heart as it hammered out the passing of her life like a metronome. She began to measure her breathing, holding her breath one extra beat on each inhalation and two as she exhaled. The power she fought so hard to restrain built within her to excruciating levels. Ariane feared she would be unable to contain it but she chased away any lingering doubt, giving it no time to breed its destructive disquiet. She felt filled by light, bright and cleansing and vigorous and peaceful. She passed herself over to the experience, existing on a sensory level far beyond anything she had ever imagined. She was tossed like a small boat on the sea of her emotions, swaying with its currents, blessedly unfettered and free.

"Free." She sighed, her lips making the word but her ears too filled with the sound of her rushing blood to hear it.

Angel skirted the crowd, aware of their sudden turmoil but managing to escape too much involvement. He was pushing through the struggling crowd making his way to a set of rough steps snaking up the steep side of the hill at the high back of the deep crater. He could hear Spike in front of him, cursing like a docker, and he raced to keep up. Angel had spotted the King high on a craggy outcropping and they were headed in that direction. He hoped that Jamie would be close and Ariane would be with him. The situation was spiraling out of control and he wanted out of Th'hesela before the real trouble kicked off.

It was then that Angel ran, literally, into Wesley, Gunn and Granlar.

"Where are you headed?" Angel asked helping Wesley to his feet and watching him brush dust from the seat of his pants.

"There is a cave, off to the side of where the King stands. We believe the child to be held there." Granlar informed him before Wes had a chance.

"What about Ari?" He enquired, noting there combined looks of apologetic surprise.

"Er, Angel, look." Gunn pointed a shaking finger high over Angel's shoulder and watched the vampire turn to see.

He gave the scene a moment to sink in then returned his attention to Gunn. "We have to get the kid first, then, we deal with that." He turned to look one last time, frustrated rage bubbling within him, then he began to climb the steps again.

Below them, the madness continued. God's basin looked like a boiling cauldron of flailing arms and swords set to the music of screaming souls in torment. Some of the Quintarhan's had left the battle and taken the path toward the King. At the top of the stairs an honor guard of the King's most trusted warriors stood firm.

Granlar took to the front of the group and nodded to the assemblage who nodded back but did not give way.

"I have returned to serve the King." He stated. "Where is the child that he may be returned to his people?"

"Sire, the King has taken to the cavern. He is with the youngling. We have orders to allow no-one through."

"I am still your Legatt. I am not no-one." Granlar shot back. "The King requested that I be brought to him immediately upon my return. Do you wish me to inform his majesty that it was you who prevented me?"

"No, Sire, but these?" The guard motioned toward Wesley and Gunn flanked on either side by Spike and Angel in their Myoran attire.

"Prisoners, you imbecile. I am going to slaughter them in the presence of the Sovereign as a gift."

The guard shifted as his mind worked then he stepped aside with a curt nod of his head.

"Let no others pass. Quintharahns are massing below and they will come for the King. Stand firm and brave, our days of war may be drawing to a close but there is still blood to be spilled. Take heed it is not your own." Granlar clapped the anxious warrior on the shoulder as he passed through.

The five marched through a short tunnel which opened to a wide torch-lit cave with several more openings inside. The walls were rough and decorated with crude images which caught Wesley's attention instantly, but it was the huddle of Myoran's which caught Angel's eyes.

Granlar spared no time examining his surroundings; he crossed the cavern in long stomping strides. Spike took pleasure in prodding Wes in the back with his sword to return his attention and make him follow the others.

"My King, I am returned." Granlar stated grandly and took to one knee, bowing his head in reverence.

The King stood for a moment, confusion evident in every line of his worn face. His world was crumbling and his sanity along with it. All semblance of King Myor's regal bearing was gone. What stood before Granlar was nothing more than a desiccated shell of a once great ruler. Time had stolen his majesty. Thessimus stepped forward and put a hand on Granlar's shoulder.

"Arise, Granlar. Your return is fortuitous indeed." He simpered.

Granlar drew his shoulder back out of Thessimus's grasp and directed his words toward the King again.

"How can I be of service, Majesty?" Thessimus drew back a pace as Granlar returned to his feet.

"Granlar, my son, there is so little time and much to be said. I have brought us into an ambush and I fear for our people's survival. I can feel death within me and yet I will not be released before I see an end to this madness. We are ruined, Granlar. I hand over a dying land and its ravaged people. I have been selfish and prideful just as she said." He broke down and whimpered like a child, his eyes drifting toward the swaying figure of Ariane.

There was flicker of anxiety deep in Granlar's gut as he heard confirmation of his birthright but there was no time to explore it. He had wondered, sometimes hoped, sometimes dreaded the moment when his fate would be sealed yet he had never anticipated circumstances such as these.

Granlar turned to Angel and pointed toward one of the darkened caves. "The boy will be there. Take him quickly and leave this place; I cannot vouch for your safety at this time."

Thessimus stepped forward scowling deeply. "The right is not yours!" He spat. "Guards seize these men." He yelled to the attending warriors who looked to Granlar for some guidance.

"Ryen, assist them." Granlar spoke with quiet strength to one of the warriors. "Find the boy and take them to the nearest portal."

"It is not your right!" Thessimus shrieked again. "The right is mine, MINE! I am Supreme of the Guard."

"You are Supreme of nothing but your own petty intrigues." Rathlyn growled, stepping out of the shadows at Granlar's side. "Begging your indulgence, Highness. Please allow me the honor of dealing with this treacherous cur."

"Rathlyn, I do not carry the royal seal." Granlar hesitated, somewhat at a loss. "Else I would grant you your wish."

"A formality, Sire. Give me your leave and I shall attend to this issue personally." Granlar leered at Thessimus with a vicious hunger.

"The crown is yours, My Son." King Myor croaked from his corner. "Though I still draw breath, afore these witnesses I avow every command you issue should carry my approval. Do as you will. My rule has only brought sorrow; perhaps yours will prove its undoing."

"Take these men to the child, Ryen. Time is short." Wes and Gunn made to follow the exiting warrior but stopped short when Angel and Spike didn't follow.

"What about Ariane?" Spike asked Granlar. Voiceing Angel's question before he had a chance to ask it.

"I mean to deal with that myself." Granlar informed him then turned to Rathlyn. Take your leave Rathlyn and do as you please with Thessimus, for any warrior who can sanction the abduction of a youngling should be stripped of all rights."

He returned his attention to Spike and Angel and looked at both of them gravely. "You should go and fetch the youngling for I can not say what perils await your men there; they may need your strength. I shall release the key from her bondage and bring her to the lake."

"No chance, mate. I don't care what else happens, I'm not going anywhere until the girls with me. So lead the way." Spike stated boldly.

"I'm going with you." Angel informed them.

"I can handle this, Angel, why don't you go with Wes and Chuck, make sure the kid gets home. You promised her, remember." Spike replied leveling his eyes at Angel. "Were all going back together anyway, what's the big deal?"

For reasons he couldn't name or quite understand, Angel agreed and caught up to the Myoran, Gunn and Wes at the far reaches of the cave.

Spike and Granlar stood at the edge of the cliff their eyes drawn, captivated by the wonder above them.

"We have to stop her before she opens the portal." Spike whispered, fear running icy fingers down his spine. He couldn't stop thinking about what Wes had told them about the likely outcome if Ari was used to open the portal.

"This is not the way described in the prophesy." Granlar informed him, awe struck.

"Without the ritual there can be no portal. The Druids must speak the incantation and bring forth the lightening. She shall die for nothing, like her mother before her." The King joined them, leaning heavily against the rock wall his old eyes rivited to the spectacle before them.

"Not today." Spike spat, "She's not dying today, not if I can help it."

"And what will you do, human? Who are you to shatter five hundred years of destiny?" The King asked scornfully drawing on his scant reserves of strenght.

"I'm William the Bloody, slayer of slayers, the Big Evil, undead and in person. Who the hell are you?" Spike squared his shoulders and thrust out his chin in defiance. "I say bollocks to destiny, you make your own and Ari isn't dyin' in some god forsaken dimension like this. You don't deserve her."

"Then away, and do what you can." The King conceded. "I lost her mother to this cause I would not see it happen again."

Granlar motioned to a concealed passage in the side of the cliff and Spike followed him, the personification of swaggering bravado.

Ariane hung, suspended in a sphere of bright white light measuring less than a meter across. The nucleus was brilliant, too blinding to look at for more than a second without leaving a dancing after image on the eye resembling a camera flash.

The Myoran and Quintarhan's warriors below halted their fighting and gazed up at the spectacle in awe struck silence. Even the poetic prophecy had not prepared them for the shocking reality of the display above them.

They watched the sphere pulse rhythmically, too much like a heart beat to be anything less. With each pulse it grew, spreading steadily outward, inching toward the stunned and silent people below. The light seemed to gain strength as it grew becoming an earthbound sun, perishing shadows with its brilliance.

The feeling of anticipation from the gathered Myoran's was palpable. Each one shared a prayer of hope. Hope that this was their new beginning. This event was to end the bloodshed. The end of orphaned children denied their innocence, their young lives consumed by a need for vengeance. An end to young men and women cut down in their prime, their families destroyed by grief. An end to the misery and the starvation caused when the only people left to tend the land were those too sick, old or weak to fight.

The Myoran's had been so long in their conflict that those who remembered a time of peace did so with eyes so clouded they were now awaiting nirvana.

They fully believed this lone girl could wipe away the decades of hardship and torture and give them back the bountiful and pleasant land that had existed before the conflict began.

As the light descended, then engulfed them, the people felt their hearts lighten. It began slowly, gently, a feeling of stillness within them. Several of them sank to their knees on the soft wet earth as if in prayer. The light continued to brighten, the entire field blazing furiously as its pulse quickened. The feeling of building anticipation was heart stopping.

Time stood still; there was no sound, no breath of air to stir the grass. Th'hesela waited.

Abruptly, the pulsing ceased and the glow from the centre exploded like a solar flare. The light ripped outward without dimming, in time it would touch every soul as it had those in the crowded crater.

There was a collective gasp from every man, woman and child caught in the orb of light. Each one filled with an overwhelming feeling of happiness. Some laughed, some cried, some remained completely silent and still, but every being felt the same inside. They stretched out trembling hands and touched those standing closest to them, Myoran and Quintarhan alike. This feeling recognized no race. It cared nothing for sides, it affected everyone, joining them in hope.

As the light faded they began looking around at each other, wondering if this precious gift was theirs alone. A young girl was the first to look upward. Her mother, drawn by the sudden tears in her daughters' eyes looked next. Gradually, more and more of them lifted their eyes skyward.

Gunn, Angel and Wesley ran through a maze of tunnels until Rathlyn brought them to sudden halt.

"Thessimus has the boy." He growled his lip curling in a sneer.

Angel made to push by him but the warrior grasped his shoulder. Angel tried to pull away but Rathlyn's grasp was strong. "Wait, friend." The words were spoken as softly as his ravaged throat would allow. "Thessimus is a strategist, if we give him reason, he will kill the youngling with no remorse. We must be careful else we will bring about the very thing we have come here to prevent."

Angel's eyes roamed over Rathlyn's ravaged countenance and read his honesty. He nodded and Rathlyn let his hand fall from Angel's shoulder.

"What's your plan?" Gunn asked Rathlyn his voice betraying his wariness.

"My talents lie with the sword not with tactics, dark one." Rathlyn admitted with a shake of his head.

"We need something, and you're the only one who knows this place." Angel cursed.

"Thessimus knows he has no place in Th'hesela now. He will doubtless wish to escape through the portal at the lake. We should drive him there; allow him to believe he has the upper hand. That way he will have no reason to harm the boy. He will use him to bargain for release. I have men stationed there for I was warned Thessimus had left it open."

"Sounds like a plan to me, big guy." Gunn smirked. "What are we waiting for?"

They followed Rathlyn as he pounded down the tunnel to where they hoped Thessimus waited with Jamie.

Thessimus stood like a trapped rat with his back to the rough stone wall at the side of the tunnel. He had to think, he needed time to formulate a plan. He could hear the trampling of feet behind him and he knew his time was short. He needed to get out of Th'hesela. Everything was ruined, his great plan had been torn to shreds and his lofty goals had turned to ashes.

He slung the child over his narrow shoulder and marched toward the only portal he knew to be unguarded. He had purposefully left the lake side threshold unattended in the event something went wrong.

As he approached, Thessimus smiled to himself. His plan of escape was intact. The portal was shimmering, its glorious presence tempting Thessimus into a trot. The skinny, slinking gait of Snort brought him to an abrupt halt and he skidded on the slick earth, dropping Jamie in the process.

"What are you doing here?" Thessimus hissed at Snort.

"You had confided that this should be your contingency if the King were compromised, Sire. I concluded that you, yourself, would have no other means of escape should your plan prove unsuccessful, Supreme Thessimus." Snort grinned slyly as he said the last two words. "I wanted to be sure all was prepared for a swift departure."

"Is everything as it should be?" Thessimus asked attempting to sound bold and self assured.

"Certainly, Sire. I set the portal myself." Snort confided with a deep bow.

"My thanks to you. I am bound for the Drachyn Realm, as I requested?" Thessimus eyed Snort with wily scrutiny.

"I understood you had requested the Viotian Dimension, Lord. I will change the co-ordinates ..." Snort looked perplexed and abashed.

"No, Snort. Forgive me for testing you but I had to be sure. These are troubled times and it is hard to know whom to trust." Thessimus offered Snort a slim smile.

"Well spoken, traitor." Rathlyn snarled as he, Angel, Gunn and Wesley arrived on the scene.

Angel made a grab for Jamie but Thessimus was quick and backed toward the portal without taking his eyes from Angel. He drew a dagger from his tunic and held it menacingly before him for all to see.

"Do not underestimate me, demon. I will slit the boy open and spill his guts to the ground if you try to stop me." Thessimus's eyes were staring crazily from his skull and anyone could tell this man had reached his limit. "All I want is to leave this place. I fulfilled my obligation to the King; I have served the throne well. Is it too much ask to leave here without bloodshed?"

"The only blood to be shed here will be your own, you vile traitor." Rathlyn growled.

"I don't want any trouble." Angel said, side stepping so he and Rathlyn were on opposite sides of Thessimus and Jamie. "I just want the kid." He pointed toward Jamie and smiled slightly as Thessimus let his crazed eyes wander to the limp child in his arms.

Together they moved in on Thessimus. Rathlyn stomped forward as Angel sprang cat-like and snatched the child from Thessimus's weak grasp. As he turned toward Gunn and Wesley, Angel felt the fiery sting of Thessimus's blade down his back but he didn't let it stop him.

Thessimus and Rathlyn tussled, dancing this way and that as Thessimus tried to make a run for the shimmering portal. Thessimus was quicker and managed to slip from Rathlyn's grasp and made a hasty line to the threshold. Before he could step through, Snort stepped from the side. The pedagogue looked terrified when he caught sight of the blade still held in Thessimus's sweaty fist but he didn't flinch.

"You are a coward, Thessimus." He said taking another shaking step toward the man.

"You! You dare to call me a coward? A pedagogue!" Thessimus laughed harshly and turned away, dismissing Snort out of hand.

Snorts anger rose like a lion inside him. The quavering roar which howled from his throat surprised him as he ran for Thessimus, still unsure of what he was going to do. His small hands were like claws, held before him in white knuckled rage.

Thessimus was striding toward the shining portal when Snort struck him in the back at an all out sprint. Thessimus stumbled; stunned by the blow he tripped over his own feet, staggering to keep his balance. It was a losing battle as gravity pulled him toward the ground. He struck to solid earth with a skidding thud. The arm he had put out to break his fall was crushed under his body. Too late, Thessimus realized the pain he felt in his gut came from his poisoned dagger.

"Thwarted, by a pedagogue." Thessimus moaned, hearing the thick bubbling of fluid in his lungs. Recognizing the rattle of death in his voice.

"No you have been thwarted by your own greed, Thessimus. A fitting end to a worthless existence." Rathlyn growled. He placed his huge foot on Thessimus's back, the weight pushing the knife further into his body. "I told you I would see you dead."

Thessimus's dead eyes shimmered with life, reflected from the last thing that he ever saw. A glittering portal which would stand, forever beyond his reach.

Jamie struggled in Wesley's arms, startling him. He slid to the ground and ran toward Angel who was walking back toward him.

"Take me home." Jamie said, tears brimming in his eyes. "I want to go home now." He clung to Angel's legs tightly.

"Hey, you're safe, there's nothing to worry about." Angel said, prying Jamie's' arms from his legs and crouching beside him. Angel could feel the steady spread of the poison in his system, knowing it wouldn't take long to incapacitate him.

"You have to take me home, please take me home." Jamie sobbed into Angels shoulder.

"The portal is set to your stronghold, Sire." Snort stammered, his eyes darting from Angel to Rathlyn then to the dead body of Thessimus.

"Wes, take him home." Angel stood with Jamie in his arms, swaying drunkenly.

Wesley tried to pry the child from Angel's grasp but Jamie held fast. "Please take me home." Jamie sobbed again.

"Angel you have to go back. You've been poisoned." Wesley stated still trying to pull Jamie from his strangle hold on Angel's neck.

"I'm not leaving without Ari." He croaked.

"You can come back for her." Gunn said, trying to appease Angel. He and Wesley were guiding the disorientated vampire toward the portal. He was going through it one way or another.

"I have to be here. I have to bring her home." Angel felt like even his mind was mumbling. He couldn't think straight.

"Take Jamie, and then come back." Gunn offered as he pushed Angel gently then watched as he staggered through the portal with Jamie still in his arms. Seconds later all thoughts of Angel were gone. He was bursting with happiness, a goofy grin splitting his face. He turned and saw with added satisfaction that Wesley, Rathlyn and Snort all wore similar expressions.

"What's going on?" He asked with a stifled laugh.

"I have no idea, but I'm glad Angel isn't here. If this isn't pure bliss, I don't know what is." Wes grinned in spite of himself.

Spike held his hand up to shield his eyes as the light exploded around and through him. For an instant he felt Ariane within him. Her essence touching him, filling his demon stunted emotions with her goodness.

As the flash dissipated his senses returned and his eyes adjusted to the new brightness of the sky. He strained to see into the centre of the still glowing orb, searching for Ariane where he had last seen her, but the sphere was empty. He could see the swaying frame she had been chained to, the shackles hanging bare and grim.

"Hold still." Cordelia hissed as she pocked at the long, ragged wound on Angel's back.

"It's nothing, just a scratch." He muttered, but he knew better. He could already feel the poison doing its job.

"Some scratch." She replied sarcastically, and then continued her appraisal. "This doesn't look right to me."

"Fine, fix it later; I have to get back there." Angel stood up but his legs were new-born weak and he sat down again just as quickly.

"You," She warned, "Are not going anywhere." She ignored his continued protestations and lifted the telephone to call for medical assistance.

"She can't come home without me." Angel tried to call out but Cordelia disregarded his feeble muttering. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper. Angel's body was colder than usual, and his extremities were numb. He needed to explain things to Cordelia, and then perhaps she could find a way to keep Ariane safe until he was able to bring her home. He tried once more to speak but nothing happened and within seconds, he was unconscious.

Angel woke up gradually; sleep slipping off him like outgoing tide. The room was dark but he could make out the familiar shapes telling him he was once again in his own bedroom. Slowly sounds came to him, voices from the other room.

"I'm going back." He heard Spike say.

"Granlar said he would contact us if anything happens." Wes's voice replied. He sounded apologetic.

"Someone should be there. That's all I'm saying. A friendly face when she gets back." Spike shrugged.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I think Spike's right." Cordelia added. "We could do it in shifts, maybe. That way someone she knows would be there when she comes back from where ever it is she's gone."

"She hasn't gone anywhere." Angel said as he shuffled into the room. Cordelia went to him and he let her take some of his weight until he dropped into a chair.

"I was watching, Angel. One second she was there, as bright as the sun, then she was gone. The light was still there but it was empty, hollow inside." Spike shook his head trying to make sense of what he had witnessed.

"She couldn't have gone." Angel said "She can't go anywhere without me."

"Egotistical Bastard." Spike spat back.

"It's not ego, Spike, its part of her contract." Angel replied quietly.

"Maybe someone should have told her, 'cause she's gone as sure as I'm standing here."

"What would be capable of breaking her contract?" Angel turned to Wes.

"I don't have enough information to even hazard a guess." He shrugged. "I'll find Lindsey and get to work on finding out."

"I'll save you the trip." Spike scoffed. "I've said it before and I don't mind saying it again, that's the thing with magic, there's always consequences. Always. Don't take a bloody genius to work out that the sodding powers have got a hand in this mess. Think about it, she goes and lets off a big happy in one little insignificant corner of the universe and the balance of good and evil gets screwed with. The butterfly effect or the domino effect. Well it's some sodding effect or other."

"Actually that isn't as stupid as it sounds." Wesley commented somewhat stunned that Spike could come up with such a plausible hypothesis.

"Don't look so surprised, four-eyes. Don't let the blonde hair fool you, there's plenty of work going on in my noggin." Spike replied tapping his head smugly.

"You call what goes on in there work?" Angel scoffed. "You explained the what, but it still doesn't tell us where she is."

"True, but it gives us a place to start looking." Wesley left Angels office like a man on a mission.

A black velvet cloak of silence hung over the room, strangely comforting in its smothering confinement. No one wanted to be the first to shatter that silence. Its very stillness was eerily pleasant. Angel stared out of the window to the steadily brightening sky. Spike sat forward in his chair, his feet wide apart, elbows on his knees and hands clasped between them. Wesley sat at Angel's desk, an open book in front of him, staring at the printed pages, absorbing nothing. Lorne sat on the sofa, his long legs crossed at the ankles, twisting the stem of an empty martini glass between his fingers.

It had been three months since Spike had returned alone and patience and hope was in short supply. Angel had been steadily withdrawing from the group as the days dragged by, as had Lorne. Angel could guess where Ari was and the longer it took them to find her the less chance there was that she would come back the same girl who left. He remembered, all too vividly, his time in hell and he remembered the strength it took to return from the brink of the abyss. He didn't want to contemplate what torture Ariane was enduring in the days (which to her would no doubt feel like years) since she had been taken.

The telephones shrill ring stole the serenity like a stealthless thief, making the group jump in unison. Wesley snatched at the receiver more to halt the sound than in any hurry to speak to the caller. His hand moved with numb fatigue as he put the cold plastic to his ear.

"I understand." He said eventually, his throat thick with inactivity.

"Angel," He coughed once, "there has been an attack on a group of ..." Wes stopped as Angel turned from the window. He fixed Wesley with a dead eyed stare, killing the words dead in his mouth.

"I'll go." Spike stated without enthusiasm, he stood and took the phone from Wesley's hand to listen to the details. He said nothing as he left the room, all eyes on him.

"We should do something." Cordelia's voice sounded flat and spiritless.

"Like what?" Gunn enquired with a shrug.

"I don't know. A memorial, a service maybe, something like that."

"Like a funeral?" Lorne asked, his voice breaking on the last word. "We know she's not dead, so what are we saying? Are we just going to leave her there? In hell. Alone?"

"Nobody's sayin' that Lorne, man. We're not going to give up, it's just." Gunn shrugged again and raised questioning eyes toward Angel. The demon with all the answers.

"You should go home." Angel turned away again, unable to face them. He dropped his arms to his sides and swallowed hard passed the lump in his throat.

"Angel, we all ..." Wes began.

"Go home." He said again more gruffly than he intended.

He wanted to be alone. He wanted to loose it and he couldn't, wouldn't, do it with an audience. His sins were laying heavy on his soul and he needed solitude in order to search for some solace, some relief, however short lived. Maybe he'd get blind drunk and pass out, maybe then he could forget.

He listened as each of his friends filed out of the room. He heard the last one leave, Cordelia, closing the door behind her with a soft apologetic click. He turned and began walking toward the elevator door as the phone rang again. Fury boiled within him, spilling over in an instant. He grabbed the corner of his desk and launched it across the room. It landed with a pleasing splintering of wood and smashing of glass. Paper fluttered to the floor, littering the carpet. Next, Angel lunged forward and took hold of a pretty tiffany style lamp and hurled it onto the shattered desk, listening to the musical tinkling of the delicately coloured glass as it scattered over the canted surface of the broken desk.

"Feel better?" A voice asked, playful humour bubbling under its gentleness.

"A bit." He answered it, shaking his head. "I really trashed that desk didn't I."

"That you did." The voice agreed. "Why so destructive?"

"I ..." Angel stopped and put his hand to his head. He felt a tear run a path down his cheek. "I've failed, again."

"You did your best." The voice argued.

"It wasn't good enough," He stated. "It never is." He added with a humourless laugh.

"Don't be so defeatist." The voice scolded all its previous amusement gone. "The risks were obvious, everyone accepted them."

"No!" He bellowed. "I didn't accept them. I _don't_ accept them. They cost too much." The last words were a coarse whisper.

"Who died and made you the accountant?" The voice asked its pointed question which sounded sharp with scorn. "Show me this transcendental balance sheet, show me the discrepancy. Where is this great loss?"

"Here." Angel placed a hand over his un-beating heart. Turning the hand to a fist he thumped it against his still chest. "It's right here." Tears were falling freely now, their salty tang on his lips.

He fell to his knees and wept, the voice, Ari's voice, blessedly silent. He couldn't stand the acceptance he heard in it. He knew it was his mind attributing that quality, recognising that she had already accepted her fate when she entered Th'hesela. The recognition brought little comfort. Guilt was drowning him, pulling him down under its crushing weight and he was ready to surrender to it.

Hello,

I'd apologise for the late posting but somehow, LATE, doesn't cover 29 months. Anyway, I am sorry. I'm sorry it took so long. I'm sorry I tinkered and faffed and messed with it all these months.

There you have it. For what it is. This is my guilt and I'm surrendering to it too!!

Thanks

Just Another Angel (V. x.)


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